Once things take a turn down, it’s hard to get back up.
It’s a constant struggle for me trying to balance taking it easy on myself so I feel better and pushing myself so I’m actually a useful human being who can pay bills.
This week was better than last, but still not okay.
I’m exhausted. Every. Day. Unloading and reloading the dishwasher is an accomplishment. It’s pathetic, I know, but I’m trying not to think of it that way.
I get lost and confused in my own space and my own head, so I have to start my week by writing a list of the chores and work tasks I want to accomplish each day. Otherwise, I’d probably wander from project to project, so slowly chipping away at what needs to be done that nothing would ever be completed.
I want to be proud of myself for trying to work through my anxiety, for trying to find solutions and for actually getting shit done while dealing with myself. But, right now, being proud takes too much effort.
Maybe next week.
On the bright side of life, I had a little visitor this week.
My friend dropped her dog, Minni, off for the day. Many snuggles were had. She even got me out for a lovely lunchtime walk.