The Suck

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,


“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.

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