I hold my hands up and admit that I do hit the snooze button my alarm quite a lot. However, I do make the effort to resist temptation and I’d say about half the time I succeed. I do my Morning Pages and morning meditation through Headspace and it makes me feel good.
The other days, though. I’m too groggy and the idea of writing three A4 pages of random stuff is too much to bear and I wind up hitting the snooze button countless times until I can’t anymore. If I don’t get my Morning Pages done, I’ll make the effort to do my meditation because I’m on a winning streak with that.
This morning I decided I couldn’t muster up the energy to do my Morning Pages, so I hit the snooze button as always. I must’ve knocked it off though instead because I heard my mam getting up and realised I’m usually up before her. It wasn’t a huge delay to my morning but I wound up having to do a quick 3-minute meditation in my car when I got to work, which isn’t very relaxing. We’ve had storms here most of the week so traffic has been nuts.
Does not hitting the snooze button improve my day? Or do I unnecessarily punish myself on the days I can’t bear to resist?
I often hear people say dogs are a good judge of character. They’ll shy away or bark at people they find to be undesirable. I completely believe this, but I also believe the same is true of cats.
When I was a teenager, my best friend at the time came over and we hung out in my room. It wasn’t the first time but it was the first time he properly interacted with my cat Duchess. I turned away from him petting her to grab something when I hear:
I looked back and saw that Duchess had latched on to him, her claws sunk into his arm as she proceeded to bite him. This was shocking behaviour for Duchess, who was normally such a laid back cat. I didn’t think much of it at the time. I fell out with my friend between school and college what must’ve been just a year later. I like to think Duchess knew what kind of person he was. I won’t go into details but he was toxic.
Duchess has since passed away but she’s always in my heart.
It only took me two decades of writing to finally discover what makes it difficult for me to finish writing a story. I constantly do rewrites and my computer is filled with tonnes of drafts of various stories that are unfinished.
I find myself reading over what I’ve written so far before I continue writing (which usually leads to me not continuing to write). I find flaws and decide I don’t like certain scenes, which leads me to abandon it and start a new draft. The cycle repeats and the story ends up being left unfinished.
I realise I just have to keep writing until the end and then read over what I’ve written. First drafts are supposed to be bad but just knowing that I finished writing a story will be such an achievement.
Why did it take me so long to realise this?
I suffered an anxiety attack in work this morning. I knew the day was going to be stressful because I had two looming deadlines, but I didn’t foresee just how stressful it was going to be. Usually I end up with a pounding headache after an attack, but I think I managed to prevent it when I took a mindful walk and got some sea air into my lungs. It’s funny how the methods I’ve vowed to use to help me calm my anxiety completely disappear once I’m mid-attack.
For as long as I’ve worked full-time I’ve never liked Tuesdays. My dad calls them a ‘nothing day’. Apparently he hated them too before he retired. I had been in such positive mood on Monday, not jumping around and smiling at everyone, but it was a good day. Then yesterday, I seemed to just slump. I did my Morning Pages half asleep. I went through work like a zombie, though I did take my 20-minute lunchtime walk. I was cheered to visit my nanny and find her awake for a change; usually she’s asleep. I read some of the book I’m currently reading to her. She doesn’t understand but I hoped the sound of my voice would be of some comfort to her. She kept holding my hand.
When I got home I couldn’t motivate myself to write or make a start on the proofreading assignment I was given earlier in the day. The only thing I felt like doing was reading, so I did.
Today I’m not so bad. I don’t have the vigour I had on Monday, but I’m not in a “funk”, as my fiancé would say, either. I’m going to spend an hour later working on the proofreading assignment. I promised it no later than tomorrow so I can work on it tomorrow evening also. It’s hanging over my head for some reason, even though I know what I’m doing and I know I’ll get a good bit done tonight. Is it anxiety or anticipation?
We’ve gone sale agreed on a house at last. I couldn’t believe it when I got the call. I had taken the day off because I was at a concert the previous night – Britney Spears, for anyone curious. My parents had literally just asked me if we’d heard anything about the offer we had put in. As always, it became a bidding war but we had set our limit and we were nowhere near it at that point so we were willing to keep going. I was sweeping the floor when I heard my phone ringing upstairs. Up until then, the estate agent had been emailing me so I was a little hopeful. Sure enough, it was him, and he told the great news that our offer had been accepted.
My fiancé wasn’t the first to know, I confess. I immediately ran downstairs and told my parents. Then I rang him. His reaction was classic:
We had been searching and bidding for over six months that it just didn’t seem real. Naturally I got things moving immediately.
It’s a slow process unfortunately. We’re meeting with our mortgage provider this week to sign some forms for our loan, but we’re still waiting for the contracts to arrive at our solicitor’s office.
To be honest, I still feel like an adult playing house. When am I going to feel like a grown-up?
You might remember in a previous entry that I vowed to quit my freelance writing gig if it made me anxious. The truth is it doesn’t take much to make me anxious. Once I got an assignment it was all I could think about. I began to dread getting the emails.
On Wednesday, I had a bit of a meltdown. It wasn’t due to a writing assignment—at least not fully due to a writing assignment. It’s not unusual for everything to suddenly get on top of me. I started the day feeling down with no real explanation. Then I got very snotty feedback to a previous assignment I had done, deeming it to be “unacceptable” and filled with criticisms. Constructive criticism is something I work on daily, but this just felt more like just plain criticism. I was angry.
One of the first lessons I learned on my road to recovery from depression was not to make decisions based on emotions, and I’m sad to say I did. I wrote to the freelancing crowd and told them I was quitting. I earned peanuts and felt clients had no write to criticise anything they received – you get what you pay for. It took me until the end of the day to calm down, after a cry and a long walk. I did the corrections on the assignment I was criticised for, and I retracted my resignation.
It was a bad day, but the good news is that I haven’t had a bad day like that in a long time. I’m also doing freelance proofreading though the work isn’t as plentiful at the minute. I’m not overdoing it. I can turn down assignments if I don’t have the time. What I need to work on is not letting it interfere with writing my story, which I’ve greatly neglected. I set a deadline to have my first draft done by the end of this month (I set it weeks ago), and I have about sixteen pages written. Not good.
Some good news coming next week!
PS. The quote in my featured image is what my mam sent to me mid-meltdown.