Showing posts with label process. Show all posts
Showing posts with label process. Show all posts

Thursday, December 14, 2023

Another 24 Hours.

I'm still here. Josh noted that when I am ill, my eyelids are smoother. This seems very strange, but I noticed it in the mirror. Are they swollen? Do I not open them normally? I don't know. 

I told Bruce that none of the seeds I'd planted over the previous twenty-four hours had seemed to do anything, but I'm still planting. Bruce said it will grow into something that can help me climb out of the way I'm feeling. I told him that most of what I did was really basic maintenance, what I have to do to be okay on a daily basis. I said I was looking for more I could do. So, I tried to do more. Intensive care.

  • I asked Josh to make me Ramen instead of skipping dinner. It's not great nutrition, and I may have swallowed the noodles without chewing them, but I ate something.
  • I hummed "Waltz for Eva and Che."
  • I thought about the lyrics: "How can you be so short-sighted/to think no further than this week or next week/to have no impossible dream?" or something like that. It reminded me of the time I saw my thesis advisor at the college where I worked (he had come for a reading). I told him I was teaching full-time and I was pregnant, so all of my dreams had come true. He gave me a serious gaze and said, "Never."
  • I sent my blog post to those three people again.
  • I listened when Josh said that writing is who I am, and that to destroy my writing would deprive the world, and that this blog should be a book...even though I didn't believe it. 
  • I asked Josh to rub my shoulders and talk to me.
  • I grinned at my son and spoke sweetly to him, calling him by his little love names.
  • I showed Josh the sticker books I ordered with Amazon Christmas money from my grandparents. Mermaids and pink and purple self-care.
  • I drank Glacier Freeze Gatorade Zero.
  • I cut my toenails even though I really didn't want to, and I hate the word toenails. But I also didn't want to see my uncut toenails.
  • I took a shower and washed my hair with philosophy Pumpkin Icing gel. I could kind of smell it.
  • I spent a few extra minutes in the shower, the water against my lower back, where I carry most of my tension.
  • I opened a new deodorant instead of scraping my armpits with a nearly empty stick. I also hate the word armpit. 
  • I fixed the blankets. This may not sound like much, but the blankets are heavy, one had fallen all the way to the floor, and I had to run around the bed a few times. But I can't stand messy blankets.
  • I didn't make myself dry off (seriously? Too hard) after my shower; I just got in bed damp. Pajamas later.
  • I started another blog post.
  • I typed S into the tags space and saw so many topics I've written about on this blog.
  • I looked again at the Studio Strand merch and filled a dream cart with bookstore shirts, magnets, stickers, keychains, and notebooks. Of course, I didn't check out.
  • I reminded myself of the Studio Strand tote bag wedged between Josh's desk and the rainbow nonfiction bookcase. It holds my Christmas presents.
  • I thought about the presents I will give Josh.
  • I thought about our trip to New York City a couple of years ago. Josh described the memory, today in a long E-mail, as a magical cloak.
  • I looked at the Cinderella print I love: Cinderella just transformed, still sparkling with magic against a dark blue night, on blue-and-white-striped matting in a white wooden frame above my dresser. I remembered that I found a tiny love note taped to the glass last week.
  • I tried not to clench my teeth.
  • I looked into my closet at all my pink tops and my three pairs of shorts with stars on them.
  • I looked at my Madame Alexander Cisette doll Violette, who looks as if she just stepped out of the flagship Sephora on her way to a Broadway show. She probably has a swanky apartment. Her gray jacket is trimmed with faux fur and purple ribbon. Of course, she has a silver silk blouse and a gray brocade skirt underneath.
  • I smiled (just a little) at the leaning tower of books, journals, and magazines by my bed, which Josh stacked in his attempt to vacuum my She Leaves a Little Sparkle Wherever She Goes rug. I'm messy, and a week ago, I had dreams.
  • I did not feel like dumping all my pretty things in the foyer to gather dust.
  • I remembered how Josh once said "The Perfect One" by Lit reminded him of me.
  • I tried again not to clench my teeth. It's a real problem.
  • I thought about Christmas. I'm still kind of looking forward to it, even if I'm still too physically sick to travel.
  • I graded student journal entries, which didn't exactly put me in a good mood but was a good distraction.
  • I took a bath--with Eucalyptus Spearmint bubbles this time.
  • I messaged with Megan, who is also dealing with terrible illness and terrible timing. And she's hilarious and good at getting mad (or not, depending on my mood) on my behalf.
  • I showed Josh a meme that made him say, "That's fantastic," which is one of my favorite things to hear. I ignored the fact that he was 90% asleep at the time.
  • I took my night meds, NyQuil (I snore less), and Trazodone.
  • I cleaned and wore my nightguard for the clenching.
  • Though I could have done so much more, I turned off the light at 10:30.
  • While I tried to fall asleep, I had a sad thought that wouldn't help me. I whispered, "I'm not going to think about that."
  • I got up at 6 and sat with Josh. We rewatched my current favorite Key and Peele sketch. https://youtu.be/hhfHu6IHBiI?si=BIY_3Bw7bhzZZrA2
  • I took ibuprofen, Sudafed, and my morning meds.
  • I smiled, watching my cat, Starry, pawing Josh's leg for pets.
  • I drank the iced peppermint mocha Josh brought home.
  • I ate the last donut.
  • I opened the shutters, positioned myself so the sun was in my face, and took a sunshine nap with Josh.
  • I got a call back from my PA's admin and left an actual message for my PA.
  • I watched the Key and Peele sketch again.
  • I scribbled while Josh worked out.
  • I showered before noon (this is a goal on my daily chart--remote worker stuff).
  • I ate the turkey, gouda, and pesto sandwich Josh made me.
  • I lay across Josh's lap while he tickled my back with both hands.
  • I did marriage counseling with Josh.
  • I spoke more than usual in marriage counseling. 
  • I ate a Christmas tree cake and drank Dr. Pepper.
  • I got back in bed with Josh and snuggled (Thursday has been our day together this semester).
  • I set up an appointment with my PA for 10 a.m. tomorrow. 
  • While Josh went to pick up Oliver, I lit three candles downstairs: Spiced Cinnamon Vanilla in the living room, Merry Cookie in the study, and Vanilla Bean Noel in the foyer, all so that the house would smell good when the boys got home.
  • I scribbled in my Italian, black and gold, celestial journal while sitting on the pink velvet loveseat with Josh.
  • I opened a new ink (#14--I'm actually on the right day!) from my Diamine Inkvent calendar: Rainbow's End, a chameleon ink that is purple with pink glitter.
  • With Josh's help, I found 18 photos in which I'm truly happy (not just smiling for the camera--in some, I'm not smiling at all). They span the last 18 years. In many of them, I'm holding Oliver. In almost all of them, I'm smiling at Josh. He took every photo but one.
  • Though my self-regard has not (yet) recovered, I haven't had any self-destructive impulses.
Today was better than yesterday. 

Wednesday, November 17, 2021

Taking Steps.

Getting groceries is complicated. 

Most of the time, Josh and I go to the grocery store together on Wednesday mornings after we take Oliver to school and before Josh goes to work. Occasionally, this doesn't work out, and I get groceries by myself. 

Getting groceries alone a few weeks ago made me notice how much I need to divide tasks into steps. Grocery shopping requires six steps:

  1. Shopping
  2. Getting everything on the belt
  3. Paying
  4. Loading groceries into car
  5. Bringing groceries inside
  6. Putting away groceries
I have to think about each step and mentally check them off. I have to be deliberate in my thinking and action, especially if the task has a social element.

When I taught college English, I made massive to-do lists, breaking down my work:
  • Make test
  • Make answer sheet
  • Copy tests
  • Make test key
I couldn't just think or write Get test ready. 

This may seem fastidious, but it's a great way to get through tasks particularly if you are overwhelmed or dealing with anxiety or depression. Most days, I think through steps with something as simple as a shower:
  • Face wash
  • Shampoo
  • Razor 
  • Body wash
I also have the get-ready steps of brushing my teeth, drying off, getting dressed, and brushing my hair. When I wear makeup, I think through those steps too:
  • Powder foundation
  • Eye shadow
  • Eyeliner
  • Mascara
  • Lipstick/balm/gloss
If I'm really ambitious, I may start with face primer and eye shadow primer and add highlighter or blush. These steps are a lot more enjoyable that shower steps or grocery shopping steps. But I did have to stop using liquid foundation and finishing powder because that was too much. Find ways to reduce the number of steps or the difficulty of the method. But don't just combine steps.

If your task seems too big (and some days, everything just seems impossible), break it down. You've heard that before. But I mean really break it down. Every step you complete is a great accomplishment. And every success makes you stronger for the next step. And sometimes, you won't be able to finish all the steps. That's okay. Skip the eye shadow. Put away the cold groceries and leave the rest on the counter until tomorrow. 

Write it down. It's less scary when it's not just filling up your head. Make a checklist. Make a checklist on a small white board and write with wet-erase markers for tasks you do regularly. I like to use a vertical layout planner so that I can have my appointments and my to-do lists in one place. Rather than scratching items off the list, I now mark them with a glitter highlighter. That's more fun, and it's lets me see how much I've already done. 

Give yourself credit. I know I have to pick up my son from school every day and make his lunch, but I put these on my list every day, and I highlight them. Celebrate your progress even in tasks you often do. This can only help you.