I'm trying not to continue to be angry with myself today. I am irritating today. I can't take my meds until I eat something, but I'm not hungry and nothing we have in the house looks good. In my head I sound like a toddler throwing a fit because mom won't let me have chocolate for breakfast.
It's also laundry day, and the list of excuses to not do laundry keeps growing. For instance, right now I've put off starting laundry, because I'm writing in my blog.
Yes, I've turned into that girl. The one I always hated in school, who never does anything unless she can't get someone else to do it for her. So I instituted laundry day, one load minimum twice a week. I don't cook anymore, particularly not if I'm in the house alone. Most of that is because my medications are pretty sedating. I'm a good cook, furthermore I used to really love to cook. I had the typical southern woman's urge to feed everyone all the time. I'm also using the excuse that my boyfriend is on a diet right now and should eat fried foods three meals a day. Laundry is a much detested menial chore that is perfectly safe for me to do unsupervised. Yet here I am whining to myself and stalling.
On the bright side, I've saved so much time through procrastination that I finished a 50,000 word novel. It still requires a great deal of editing, and if I sit here long enough I will end up working on editing instead of doing laundry.
If I am really going to get well, and overcome PTSD, I need to start trying to become a responsible adult again. I've lived most of the last two years in my head, avoiding reality whenever possible. At some point you have to start focusing on what is right in front of you. So laundry day is a step in the right direction. Soon I will return to my former state of bad-ass-ness. (Ha!)
Also I'm running out of time in my twenties for epic adventures. I did go to war in my twenties and arrested lots of bad guys, maybe saved a few lives. I have finished the first draft of a novel, something I've wanted since I was a kid and realized that real live people make books exist. I still have the vague feeling as my thirties approach that I should do more, be more, something. Anything really epic. I know that I'm still a youngin' in the grand scheme of things, but the approaching end of my youth makes me want to go all carpe diem on my ass.
It's also laundry day, and the list of excuses to not do laundry keeps growing. For instance, right now I've put off starting laundry, because I'm writing in my blog.
Yes, I've turned into that girl. The one I always hated in school, who never does anything unless she can't get someone else to do it for her. So I instituted laundry day, one load minimum twice a week. I don't cook anymore, particularly not if I'm in the house alone. Most of that is because my medications are pretty sedating. I'm a good cook, furthermore I used to really love to cook. I had the typical southern woman's urge to feed everyone all the time. I'm also using the excuse that my boyfriend is on a diet right now and should eat fried foods three meals a day. Laundry is a much detested menial chore that is perfectly safe for me to do unsupervised. Yet here I am whining to myself and stalling.
On the bright side, I've saved so much time through procrastination that I finished a 50,000 word novel. It still requires a great deal of editing, and if I sit here long enough I will end up working on editing instead of doing laundry.
If I am really going to get well, and overcome PTSD, I need to start trying to become a responsible adult again. I've lived most of the last two years in my head, avoiding reality whenever possible. At some point you have to start focusing on what is right in front of you. So laundry day is a step in the right direction. Soon I will return to my former state of bad-ass-ness. (Ha!)
Also I'm running out of time in my twenties for epic adventures. I did go to war in my twenties and arrested lots of bad guys, maybe saved a few lives. I have finished the first draft of a novel, something I've wanted since I was a kid and realized that real live people make books exist. I still have the vague feeling as my thirties approach that I should do more, be more, something. Anything really epic. I know that I'm still a youngin' in the grand scheme of things, but the approaching end of my youth makes me want to go all carpe diem on my ass.
Congratulations on the novel and good luck with it - now the work begins.
ReplyDeleteThere is life after thirty. it's just a bit different, to keep us from getting bored.
That is true. I know lots of people said they prefer their thirties to their twenties. Mostly, I feel like I should mark this major change in my life, by doing something great that I haven't done yet. I'm still trying to think of something awesome I can do, that won't be too stressful. My ultimate awesome thing I want to do before I die, is make a trip to Japan, but right now that is really feasible.
ReplyDelete