This is a Really Real Mental Health post.

I haven’t written in awhile.

Not like this.

Short posts and one liners on facebook.

The occasional paragraph here and there.

But I haven’t written a really real post in awhile.

I’ve been okay,

but it’s that place where since I’m doing better than I was,

I’m looking at all of the ways I should be doing better than I am.

Every small step backwards feels like a failure.

And time is slipping away from me.

It feels like just yesterday I set up an appointment for the first week of August and it was so far away.

Now August starts in a few days.

I’m still having a really hard time leaving the house.

I spent today saying I was going to go to the grocery store,

and I also had a dinner to go to tonight.

Instead of going shopping I slept,

partially avoiding the store,

partially avoiding the anxiety over a social gathering.

I made it to the dinner,

and I went grocery shopping after,

but I know it will be harder to sleep tonight.

And I’ve worked hard to get my sleep to a reasonable place.

But,

I’m sitting here now with the lights dimmed throughout the house,

and a blue light filter on my computer screen.

Writing to get things out of my brain and onto the screen.

Hopefully I’ll still be able to sleep at a reasonable time.

I’m starting to spend too much time mindlessly scrolling facebook.

It’s either a sign of impending depression,

or it’s a cause of depression.

Maybe a mix of both.

I’m applying for jobs and I’m not hearing back.

I’ve thought of applying at Starbucks,

but I can’t work mornings,

and I can’t be on my feet that long,

and what if I’m too big for people to fit around me behind the counter.

Anxiety is a fucking asshole,

really.

Part of my sleep plan has been listening to sleep meditation at night,

I found my way to Yoga Nidra recordings.

It’s now my favorite way to fall asleep.

Part of Yoga Nidra is a type of positive affirmation.

A short, one line, present tense statement that begins, “I am _____.”

Mine has been, “I am worthy.”

I asked about starting a Patreon and had people respond that they would support me.

But I’m afraid to actually finish the last steps of setting it up and share the link.

I’ve had many people (especially in the last week) talk to me about starting an Etsy.

But I don’t feel like people will pay what I’d need to charge.

I keep trying to remind myself,

I am worthy.

Even applying for work,

I feel like I have too many disabilities, too many things that make me different,

too many things that get in the way of me being a cog in the machine.

Gear shaped me is missing too many teeth,

and many of the ones that are left are misshapen.

They stick out too far,

Or they’re a bit too wide,

Or bent,

Or there is that one, that has a crack that looks like a lightening bolt.

Sometimes it gets jammed.

Where do I fit in this world?

I am worthy.

But, I can sit here and make cards and spread love all day.

And it doesn’t pay the bills.

No matter how many people tell me I should start an Etsy,

playing with paper and paste won’t give me the life I want to live.

But it’s still important to me that I find a way to use my life to help others.

My strength is using my vulnerability to help people find their way.

Their own strengths.

But, that doesn’t pay the bills either.

At least not now.

I feel stuck.

I know what I want.

I know what I’d like my life to look like on the other side.

But I don’t know what steps I need to take to make it there.

I don’t know what path to take.

I don’t even see paths to choose from.

I know I need to create my own path.

I’ve always gone the wrong way around the coffee table.

But sometimes creating a new path through dense vegetation is a lot of fucking work.

This is a Really Real Mental Health post.

I’m fighting the voice in the back of my head that keeps saying,

“I suck”

I’m working with a sleep specialist. Bedtime is a normal thing for me now.

I understand the night time lull vs. the actual bedtime.

And so I’m getting to sleep much quicker once I lay down.

But waking up is still a hassle.

I’m now sleeping through an alarm that you aren’t supposed to be able to sleep through.

It’s reminiscent of my childhood.

The giant Garfield clock with the giant bells on top, bought somewhat in gest, but mostly because my mom was sick of waking me up 10 times for school each morning.

It didn’t work after a week.

I would sleep through the bells clanging until my mom turned it off because it annoyed her downstairs.

So now the alarm goes off at 12 and I wake up much later, unless Wonder Woman gets annoyed and wakes me up sooner.

I wake up earlier in the morning, but it feels like too early.

Fall asleep at 3 am and wake up at 7,

no, I’d like to try for at least 9,

and then I wake up at 8,

no thank you, 9 please,

and then it’s 1230 and the alarm has been blaring,

unheard.

“I suck”

I refilled my med sorter this morning.

So many medications.

So many medications to still feel this shitty.

If only I did this and that and this,

I’d feel better.

I haven’t left the house in days.

I’ve been cooking (go me!).

But haven’t cleaned up a damn thing.

The kitchen is covered in pots and pans and things that couldn’t be disposable.

Yesterday I did yoga (another win!) on a floor covered in bits and pieces of paper and other misc. pieces of whatever.

My desk is chaos (but I know where it all is).

“I suck.”

Even crafting, my escape, is hard right now.

I can’t stay focused.

I work on one piece of one card and I lose 30 minutes into facebook,

berating myself the whole time.

I want to be creating.

I have ideas for things I want to do.

I’ve designed cards in the software.

But the physical activity of creating them feels like too much.

“I suck.”

Wonder Woman just reminded me that we’re going out later today to pick up some orders I’ve made.

Replenishing craft supplies with money from sales (that’s the constant goal).

I’m sitting in front of my happy light while I type this,

since I couldn’t bring myself to sit on the front porch,

or go hammocking.

I am doing things.

Maybe not all of the things.

But I’m doing what I can in this moment.

And I’m trying to give myself permission to push as much as I can,

while also being gentle.

Finding the balance.

I can push, without being an asshole to myself.

Encourage but not berate.

I can treat myself like I’d treat a friend.

Self love.

Self compassion.

It’s so so hard.

Especially when I sleep in too late and feel exhausted all day.

Or, when I look at the mess around me.

And I feel my joints ache from sitting in this chair so much.

Or feel that anxiety at the idea of stepping onto my front porch.

Or see half finished projects and cut pieces of paper sitting around unassembled on my desk.

It’s so hard to be gentle when I know I could be doing more.

Or, theoretically I could.

If I felt well enough I could.

Again, it’s finding the balance.

Balance is important.

Maybe I don’t suck.

Maybe things just suck right now.