I have work to do. I am not doing the work. I am here.
I really wanna get on top of my shit this week but FUCK.
Yesterday was tough, emotionally, although I’m not sure why. Other than… I suppose a very mild hangover, due to my four drinks with Zardoz over Zoom the night before, but I ate and drank water and generally did what I could to counteract the alcohol, I just… still felt not great all day.
Probably partially due to the bad sleep, yo. I’m still trying my DAMNEDEST to get to bed “early” (for me, between 10 and 12), and that was working great until it wasn’t. I haven’t been falling asleep until 3-ish and the 3 hours before that are torture.
IT’s a reminder that I stay up late because I… can’t… sleep earlier than Late. At least not regularly. :/
I’m not getting exercise, I’m not taking care of my mental health, I know these are not helping but it just feels so overwhelming. The fact that I’m not drinking myself to death and continuing to go to bed early even when I know it means I’ll be lying awake for hours… Those things alone feel like “trying,” and adding more to that feels like TOO MUCH TRYING.
But those things won’t actually HELP unless I do the other things necessary to MAKE them help.
But that’s okay too BLAH BLAH QUARANTINE IS HARD BLAH SELF-CARE BLAH YOU DON’T HAVE TO BE YOUR MOST PRODUCTIVE DURING A PANDEMIC BLAH.
It would feel perhaps a little less… shitty… if this weren’t the constant struggle of my existence. If productivity was my main man and I’m only struggling to chill with him NOW. But uh. This is just… Jess o’Clock Forever and I’m tired of hearing myself say the same things and make the same excuses.
Did I actually write about ADHD recently? Yeahhhh I think I did. It’s one of those things I don’t like talking/thinking about too much because I am very very very susceptible to the trap of defining myself by my various mental health struggles, and I know from experience that it only causes me to dig my heels in and refuse to find solutions because I CAN’T HELP IT, BABY I WAS BORN THIS WAY.
The balance between forgiving myself and giving up on myself is HARD TO STRIKE, YO.
And like. Jobs are boring, yo. People still do them. I need to just… do them. Even if it’s harder for me, IT’S EASIER NOW THAN IT AS 6 MONTHS AGO AND SOMETIMES YOU JUST GOTTA DO THE THING.
PArt of this renewed desire to, uh… Not Be MY Problems is chatting with Chocolate for the first time in a while. And I forgot how she compares everyone based on their mental health. Like, “I thought this book was funny but Prairie thought it was sad, and like, I guess that’s just something about having anxiety! WE get it and she doesn’t, right?!?!”
And she pulls me in, like I’m also meant to use this as the main crux of my identity, but I’ve found that’s really unhelpful when it comes to pulling myself out of an anxious state. When all I can hear in my head is “I’m an anxious person and that’s why this is making me anxious,” it doesn’t give me any room to move past the feeling. When I do that, I AM the feeling. And also it’s like… If I stop being anxious, am I kicked out of the Anxious Club? Do I lose that part of my identity when I find coping mechanisms that work well for me?
Also, I did not point out that Prairie actually has quite a bit of anxiety. She just doesn’t feel the same way about it. Humor isn’t her coping mechanism for shitty feelings; that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have shitty feelings.
I guess it kinda surprised me that she defines Prairie as a non-anxious person when they’re (according to Chocolate, at least) best friends. This COVID shit has been really, really hard on Prairie. She gets deep into the news, she sees the worst, and she has to talk herself down quite a bit. (When she read that it might be causing a spike in rare blood disorders in kids, it really fucked with her. Her one beacon of hope in this is that her kids are safe, and the possibility that they are not was a tough pill to swallow.)
Maybe it’s just cos Prairie tends to deal with her stuff on her own/with her husband and only mentions it later. “I was feeling really anxious about (thing), so I talked to Husband/went for a walk/gardened with the kids/etc.” So maybe it seems less extreme because we don’t see her in the midst of it very often.
There is absolutely nothing wrong with being open about it either, and Chocolate very much is, but I think she just doesn’t understand people who play it closer to the vest. It’s almost like she thinks it doesn’t count if you don’t wear a neon sign.
Okay I’ve convinced myself to do the thing.
OH ALSO DON’T LET ME FORGET: The clothes Carolyn picked out for me (did I even fucking write about this holy shit) FINALLY GOT HERE ON FRIDAY. I posted pics on FB but not here because I’m a piece of shit. THEY ARE BOMB AND I AM CURRENTLY WEARING ONE OF THE TOPS TO GET USED TO HAVING MY STOMACH EXPOSED BEFORE I EMERGE INTO THE REAL WORLD THIS WAY.
I love you all goodbye for now
Time is matter here
Time is matter here
The freight train
I saw in the morning
still in the evening
inching across the flatlands
word after slow word
too many to count
And you are matter—
your eyes, your long legs,
slow breath sometimes catching
in your sleep, your head
resting against the bus window,
Jean Valentine (2012)