G’damn I am so tired. I’m in pain, and I’m tired. I feel like I’m running in place and expecting to catch-up. I’m laughing over it, for now (mostly), because like it or not it’s largely my own doing. Self-care is hard. It requires choices and clear expectation-setting. Everyone around me seems to want something (and it is often completely expected and normal – as with paid employment for example), and I keep bumping my own needs lower and lower on my list of shit to do until… I don’t. Or can’t.

When I take a minute and put things into perspective, I know that going off my Ozempic for a few days, then abruptly back on at the dose I’d been taking (no ramp down, no ramp up), it likely fucked with my emotional stability and mood management and “sense of things” – and I may still be dealing with that. I also know that enduring pain without prescribed pain management measures can be very physically fatiguing. So, I guess I’m not surprised by feeling sort of chronically overwhelmed and on the edge of exhaustion in spite of feeling that “things seem pretty normal, though”. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I set reminders for healthy breaks. I double check that I have my medication for the day with me (I forgot it yesterday and had to rely on back ups that I keep in the office, most of which I clumsily tossed into the toilet by mistake – it was that sort of day, honestly). I make a point of taking it on time. I take my walk, but it is shortened by the pain I’m in, in spite of level pavement and having my cane. I feel like I’m working damned hard for very little result.

…The thought brings tears to my eyes, which is a level of emotionality that is unusual for me, these days…

I’m suddenly swamped by a feeling of being wholly inadequate and “not good enough”, like, at all. This is an entirely subjective emotional experience not connected to any real world event or interactions, most likely brought on by fatigue and abnormally high self-imposed expectations. Circumstances being what they are, and “good enough” being very subjective, and me being – in general – “fine” for most values of “fine”, I’m fairly certain that this feeling of inadequacy is nothing more than some rando inner demon having its moment, attacking me from within – that’s what demons do. lol I sip my coffee. It’s also “fine”. Not great. Not bad. Just… coffee. I’m okay with it. I reflect on that for perspective. This cup of coffee doesn’t have to be better than it is to achieve it’s purpose successfully, it just has to be available for me. It is that and that is enough.

…”Enough” can be a tricky concept to hold on to, sometimes…

Getting caught up in chasing more, better, or other than whatever is can be tiring and distracting. Finding balance sometimes means making a point to practice a sense of sufficiency in a purposeful focused way, in spite of the to-do list, the goals, the aspirations and ambitions… all of that is immediately irrelevant once the sands in the hour glass run out, eh? The whole of the experience, the journey itself, isn’t characterized by any one achievement or detail, and exhausting myself chasing the details is probably a pretty poor choice. I remind myself to slow down and take care of this fragile vessel. Sometimes that takes more effort, or more time, or more care – or more saying “no”, in spite of wanting very much to say “yes”. I sigh to myself. It annoys me to need both more rest and also more exercise.

…”Finding balance” is largely a matter of cultivating and practicing balance… (I’m not saying that’s easy. Honestly, it’s fucking annoying.)

I try to lift my spirits with thoughts of flowers in my garden. Far away friends. Upcoming camping trips. It’s not really helping much; I just feel run down. My tinnitus is crazy loud in my ears and I wonder (again) how fatiguing it may be that I make attempts to distract myself or diminish my awareness of it, somehow? (It takes real effort, actual work, to present an appearance, regardless how effective the results may be – and my need for self-care increases with my fatigue.)

…Too much bitching…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I take some time to meditate before beginning the day’s work. What next? Self-care. Seems obvious, but I’m sometimes fairly crappy at following through on it when I most need to. There are verbs involved. Practices. Consistency. Effort. Will. It’s necessary to do the things, not just hold awareness that they are needful, and not just talk about the relative importance. I sigh, again, feeling frustrated and impatient with myself. It feels like too much, and I put my head down on my desk and let the tears come. It’ll pass. It’s not important, really, it’s just a moment.

The bananas and strawberries? Just fruits. I’ve got some very ripe banana in the freezer for making banana bread when things cool off enough to bake – and when I’ve got the energy for it – and I recently enjoyed some delightful genuinely local (picked that morning) strawberries from a farmer acquaintance (which was nice, since the birds got most of mine this year). I suppose I’d meant to say something more or different about them when I sat down to write, but the moment took me a different direction. Very human.

I sigh again, feeling too human to get enough done. I look at the clock. Still ticking. It’s time to begin again. Again.