Another day done. I did there bare minimum. I didn’t do anymore than that and I didn’t get mad about it.
There were plenty of moments when I thought of all the things I would like to do. I want to put up more Christmas decorations around the house, I want to put lights up outside the house, I want to clean up the living room, and vacuum, and scrub and wash and… you get the idea.
Whenever I would think of all those things, next I would feel the weight in my limbs, the darkness in my head, the sinking in my heart, and I would suddenly feel as if I were staring at a wall one thousand feet high, made of rock, stubborn and strong, stretching out in either direction further than I can even see. How am I going to do this? I would think.
And then I would remember, this is my brain chemistry. It isn’t really this hard, or at least it isn’t for normal people, and it shouldn’t be this hard for me.
I would remember all the little things I did get done, like taking a shower and picking the kids up from school and getting my work done. I would remember that I have set in motion the wheels of recovery for my brain chemistry in the form of a referral for a psychiatrist.
I would think of all these things, I would look at the wall, and I would say, not today.
Its okay if I don’t do those extra things today. The world will not fall apart. No one will be hurt.
I can wait.
I can sit down, secure in the knowledge I am doing my best and my best will get better as I get better.
I’m not okay today but that’s ok, you know?