When You Feel Like Garbage
I woke up this morning with a terrible, vivid nightmare. It looked like something straight out of a horror movie.
On top of that, I’ve spent the past week feeling sick. I constantly feel like I’m running a fever, but then I check and my temp is either normal or about 99. Occasionally I’ll sneeze or have a sore throat, but mainly, I just feel exhausted.
Add to the mix: homework, regular work, and Thanksgiving. It gets dark at 4 p.m., and I’m pretty sure I get seasonal effective disorder every season. I was on an antidepressant for about a year, but my previous doctor retired, and at my recent physical my new provider discontinued it. So that’s been great.
I know I need to exercise more (my Google Fit app has decreased my goal, yet again, to try to motivate me), but when it’s cold outside, it’s so not appealing. Even my cats, who are normally my exercise buddies (think fetch with dogs — only I have to fetch their mouse toys), are slumbering in their beds right now.
The holiday stress is getting to me. Mainly, everyone wants me to be in the same place for the holidays — theirs. Add in the stress of gifts and it’s overwhelming.
Halfway through typing this article, my computer crashed. I’m supposed to buy a new one tomorrow, but still.
And to top it off? This is my 100th story (including comments) on Medium. I was planning a celebratory post with a photo of cake, but it just didn’t feel right.
At times like this, I just try to remind myself that no one is perfect 100% of the time. We need to take care of ourselves. I read a recent article in Entrepreneur about taking care of your mental health, and it’s a good read. Basically: if you need help, ask.
I find it helpful to journal, listen to music, and log off social media. Most of my journaling makes it into my stories (like this one), so I find it productive. The trailer of Detective Pikachu is always good for a smile, too.
I’m trying to look on the bright side of things. One time, a friend of my husband’s gave us a bag of lemons. Basically, he was like, “Here are some lemons. We bought too many.” I thought to myself, what am I going to do with these lemons?
That day, I visited a friend of mine, who said she needed to buy fresh lemons because she wanted to make lemonade. I suddenly remembered THE LEMONS. I told her to wait, and brought over the bag. She was thrilled.
I’ve been scratching my head at that ever since, because life literally gave me lemons, so we made lemonade. And, it was pretty good.
Maybe my brain is conjuring up nightmares not to scare me, but to show me new ideas it developed for my novel.
Maybe I just have a cold, and need to rest and can exercise when I’m better.
At the end of the season, people will either like the gifts I get them, or they won’t. I’ll be over for a holiday dinner, or I won’t be able to make it. Life goes on. Maybe my 200th story will find me when I’m feeling better.
Right now, I feel like I just need time. Time to relax, and write, and write, and write. Oh, and time to find the right place for my (metaphorical) lemons.