Tuesday, July 14, 2020

Tuesday Slice: I thought I was okay


I thought I was okay.  

In so many ways, I am okay.  I have a solid roof over my head and food in my pantry.  My husband still goes to work, and I still have a job.  My adult children are healthy, making smart choices, and staying in contact.  Our air conditioner is working through this 100+ degree Texas summer.  I do the laundry each week, make the bed and empty the dishwasher every morning, drink sixty-four ounces of water every day.  I even shower, and sometimes put on makeup even though I'm the only one who will see it.  For the past few Thursdays, I've gone on road trips just to get out of the house.

See?  I'm okay, in so many ways...

The first clue that I wasn't really okay was my planner.  Every Sunday, I sit and write out what I need to do in the coming week. I don't ever get everything done, but most weeks I can check off at least half of my plans.  These days, the planner is full of plans and woefully lacking in checkmarks.

The second clue was a bag of potato chips.  I was standing at the kitchen counter eating from a bag of BBQ chips (yes, I know how unhealthy this is) and the doorbell rang.  Mail, and not just mail, a delivery that won't fit in the mailbox!  I gathered up the packages on the doorstep and walked out to the mailbox to get the rest of the delivery.  After dropping off the mail inside, I washed my hands and puttered around for two hours before re-entering the kitchen and seeing the open bag of chips on the counter.

The third clue was a frying pan.  Still in pajamas, I decided I wanted eggs for breakfast.  I got out the frying pan, then went to the other end of the house to use the restroom.  While there, I decided to make my bed and take a shower.  An hour later I realized that I hadn't had breakfast, walked into the kitchen, and saw the frying pan on the stove.  

I finally had to come to terms with my current mental state.  Activities that I usually enjoy are being affected.  Crochet projects are lying within reach, untouched.  I can barely read five pages at a time before I find myself rereading sentences, trying to focus.  There are days that I list, out loud, the next three things I need to do, and more often than not I get distracted before reaching number three.  I am racking up Duolingo points (Spanish, Japanese, and now French, because why not?) and computer solitaire games in lieu of much needed cleaning and decluttering.  I finally had to put myself on a no-spend challenge for July, because my retail therapy over the last three months was ridiculous.

I realized that I have been drifting around my house like a ghost since mid-June, when the school year effectively ended for me.  

I'm not writing this to gain sympathy or as a cry for help.  Now that I know that I'm not okay, I am taking steps to feel better--a bit less social media and news, reimplementing daily exercise and exposure to fresh air and sunshine, food journaling and habit tracking to hold myself accountable.  I've accepted my inability to read a lot right now, and gave myself the grace not to book-blog for a couple of weeks.  

I am writing this as a COVID19 diary entry.

I am writing this so that someone else can know that it's okay not to be okay, too. 

16 comments:

  1. Thanks for writing and sharing. I truly believe we figure out how to live by reading and writing and thinking. My best thinking occurs in the shower and on daily walks to see the sky. I also think it helps to acknowledge, this isn't a normal time so of course, I am not okay. Thanks for reminding me to give ourself grace.

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    1. Thank you for your kind comment, Sally. To be honest, I was feeling like a failure, reading how productive so many people have been during this pandemic. I finally had to jump off the comparison wheel and breathe.

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  2. Thanks for sharing this. I can't read right now. I have piles of books and I try, but I can't concentrate enough to get past a page. Fortunately, knitting has been my savior. It's about the only thing I can do these days.

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    1. It's odd, isn't it--all this time to do something we normally love to do, and mysteriously, we can't. I did pick up the crochet hook again--it felt good. Thanks for the inspiration to do so, Adrienne.

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  3. So often we don't see our changes in behavior and the signals that there could be a problem. Recognizing that there is an issue and then making a concerted effort to change that pattern of behavior is a step in the right direction. All of us are facing issues at this time and learning how to deal with them. It's scary.

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    1. Yes, the frying pan was the final straw. It was scary and freeing when I announced to my husband, out loud, that I was not well. I still have a way to go--I ate two smores yesterday to avoid dreaded/difficult projects--but I'm getting better.

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  4. Thanks Chris. You summed it up perfectly.

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    1. Thank you for stopping by my blog! We read so many posts of productivity, but not many about the opposite. I have found that I am in good company.

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  5. It’s interesting to rad that others who love to read, find they can’t concentrate to do that, right now. And the 1-2-not even getting to a list of 3... me too! Also too much time on stupid online games. I like how your planner also gives you a clue. I expected you to say it was hard to find things to write in it. But we have ideas of things to do, but lack the concentration. For me, many efforts seem meaningless, as I feel in suspended animation. So, so many readers can relate to your I’m fine/I’m not really ok reflection.

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    1. There was an article early on, shared by a librarian, from a psychologist explaining how underlying anxiety can wreak havoc on our concentration. It has been the biggest disappointment of my summer--all this time to finally read my ginormous stacks of books, and I can barely do more than a few pages at a time. Thankfully, the book study I'm in has extended their deadline until July 31st...it may take me that long to finish How to Be An Antiracist (heavy topics are the hardest to focus on right now!).

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    1. Then I am in good company, Diane. Not how we would like to spend our summer, eh?

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  7. Thank you for sharing this, Chris. It is good to know. It is good to relate. Your post reminded me of a quote by Austin Kleon, "demons hate fresh air." So, like you, I'm spending more time outside and take the time to nurture myself. I think it is what we all need. Thank you for the reminder.
    -Marina

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    1. I sat out in the hot sun twice yesterday! And I've returned to short meditations in the morning. Too soon to see if it's helping, but I start the day feeling better, to be sure. Thanks for the kind comment!

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  8. Chris, one thing I've always admired about your writing is your searing honesty. Today I read and slowly absorbed each word ... recognizing similarities in myself: the distractedness, the drifting like a ghost ... I attribute part to coping with the abrupt changes in our lives, our world. A great part of this is grief. Our brains are tired of processing. I attribute more to biological changes in myself, a time in my life that strangely coincides with all the rest of the upheaval. One of these things alone would call for unique means of coping and readjusting, but there are many, many layers and levels - not to mention you have a new job! I have found it harder to read lately, too. I will not get through my stack (How to Be an Antiracist is one, and I've started it. I have started many books. I did finish one for sheer enjoyment - a needed diversion). I have also found it much harder to write these past couple of months, but that's getting better (I want to finish "Sick Ada" before I return to school). Know how helpful your words are, that your cognizance and decision to give yourself grace, that taking real steps toward feeling better, are deeply encouraging to me personally as your always-kindred spirit! Strive on, my friend, each day, claiming rest and peace and clarity awaiting in the sanctuary of nature and in your physical self. As my grandmother used to say: "Take care of your precious self." Thank you for your courage in voicing these concerns and addressing them - with the implicit message to take care of ourselves, too.

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    1. Thank you, Fran, for your re-visiting and sharing your own struggles. I hesitated before posting--will this affect how others perceive me, make me less than in their eyes? But I've had positive responses, all around. There are so many people, especially educators, feeling this way right now. There are some lucky (and brave) folks in my circle who have gone on vacation, but I worry about those of us who have been stuck at home, spending our summer days waiting for updates and doing our usual summer learning with thoughts of "how would I implement this remotely?" always lurking in the backs of our minds. It is draining, in all sorts of ways. I hope we both find ways to refill our spirit before tackling the challenges ahead!

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