When Will I Learn?

 I swear...I will never learn this very, very hard lesson: I need to pace myself.

I jumped on the treadmill yesterday afternoon and walked 40 minutes at a brisk pace (I could have gone longer) and then did my toning exercises on my yoga mat. Not content with this alone, I decided to do the dishes, vacuum, and oh yes, clean the blades on the two ceiling fans in our house.

After I finished with the second ceiling fan, I knew I'd made a serious error. My body had told me earlier to stop, but did I listen? No. I kept pushing. 

A few hours later, I was exhausted and in pain. I knew I'd wake up the same the next day, and you guessed it, that's what happened.

Today I had plans to go watch my nephew play basketball, take a walk with my boyfriend, and get some other things done. Instead, all I did was sit in my chair and watch tv. 

I could be mad at myself, but what would that accomplish? Absolutely nothing.

I almost, almost thought about getting on the treadmill and just doing a few minutes, but what would that have accomplished? Nothing. It would have made me feel worse. So instead, I found a new show to watch - the new Perry Mason series on HBO Max - and relaxed as much as possible.

When I have good days, I want to accomplish everything I can, but that is not what pacing is about. Pacing is about doing a little bit every day and most importantly, listening to my body. If my body has the red light flashing in my brain, I need to listen to it instead of ignoring it. 

How many times have I told myself this? Numerous. 

I need to start letting go of this mentality so prevalent in our society, that we must keep pushing, keep doing, keep achieving. If I want to achieve the goals that really matter to me, it means I must stop pushing and stop doing. 

Apparently easier said than done.

Nearly There

 February is almost over. My mood has started to lift though I still have some "meh" moments. Well, don't we all?

I've been trying to exercise regularly. That helps quite a bit. There's something about putting on your headphones, jamming out to some really great tunes, and walking. I know it's on a treadmill, but for some reason, I really enjoy it, and I think I get a better workout on the treadmill than I do just taking a walk outside. But once the weather cooperates, I'll continue taking walks on our city's trails.

I decided to start submitting my last novel to agents. That means writing the dreaded query letter. I think I came up with a pretty good one last night, but we'll see. I also have to finish writing a synopsis. Ugh. I hate them. I'd rather write an entire novel than one synopsis! After writing so many throughout the years, though, I've learned that you don't need to make them dazzling - you just need them to tell your story. I should be finished with the synopsis soon and then I'll go through my novel again to make sure that I've made all the little changes I notated. I often will put notes to myself - "check this" or "add detail here", etc., and I certainly don't want those things to squeak through to an agent's desk.

I've also been working on my jigsaw puzzle. I know I'm missing at least three pieces, so I'm going to do a thorough search of the house this week. I may have vacuumed up a few. But I love this puzzle so much (picture below) that I will probably buy another copy of it just to find the missing pieces. I always frame my puzzles, and I really want to frame this one. The calico cat reminds me of my beloved cat, Kathryn, and that's why I bought it in the first place. Plus, Mozart is my favorite composer. Win, win! Yes, it's going to be an absolute pain to go through the new puzzle for those three pieces, but it'll be worth it in the end. 

All in all...things are better. I'll take it.

Meandering My Way Through

 February is half over, thank goodness. Every day has brought something different. On Tuesday, I stayed in my recliner most of the day and watched a complete season of Shetland (six episodes) and didn't even care. Today, I managed to get on the treadmill and do some exercises, clean up the kitchen, and work on the synopsis for my last novel. 

Is this depression? I don't know. I've tried to just honor my impulses and not push myself to feel a certain way or do particular activities. If I feel like binge-watching an entire season of a show I love, I do it. If I want to get on the treadmill and rock out to some Depeche Mode, I do it.

This mood will lift. I trust that it will because that's what has happened in the past. That being said, it might be worth a visit with my therapist, a "check-in" to make sure I'm okay.

I have some wonderful things to look forward to. I booked a trip to Scotland in October for my daughter and me. It's been several years since I've been on an overseas trip, and since airline tickets were so cheap, I decided to go ahead and purchase them. I worry that my health will prevent me from going on future trips, so I wanted to do this now instead of later. I've never been to Scotland so this will definitely be an adventure!

Meanwhile, I'll keep living one day at a time because this, too, shall pass.

February Blues

 February is the hardest month of the year for me. It's not because it's the month for Valentine's Day (though in the past, this was certainly a reason) but because for the past several years, I've had traumatic events happen during this month.

Sometimes when this month rolls around, I don't realize why I start to feel depressed and want to go into full-on hermit mode until I remember: this is February. It amazes me how trauma sticks with you, even years after the event has occurred.

Three events in particular contributed to February being the month of crap. The first, and probably the worst, was finding out my husband of 18 years was cheating on me. I do not want to relive the pain of those first few days. The second was the passing of my beloved grandmother. Though she'd been ill for some time and her death was not a surprise, it still hurt, especially considering her funeral angered me in that the pastor spent perhaps five minutes talking about my grandmother and the rest preaching (this particular denomination is known for doing this). To say I was upset is an understatement. And then the third was the passing of my beloved cat. She'd developed hypothyroidism, one thing led to another, and she had surgery for a feeding tube. She was so very sick, and she had a seizure and died in my arms. 

Trauma, trauma, trauma. Therapy taught me it doesn't just disappear. It lingers in our memory, even changes our brain chemistry. When trauma anniversaries roll around, we may not remember them, but our bodies and our brains sure do.

So I've decided to practice radical self care this month. I've allowed myself to feel the way I feel. I haven't pushed myself to do things I don't feel like doing (though yeah, I do have to do day job stuff). I've been binge-watching British murder mysteries and not feeling one bit guilty about it. 

I've still been writing on my novel and enjoying it - it's now become a habit to work on it nearly every evening. 

So. February is the time for me to just "be."