I feel flat and horrible and so unbelievably weighed down this morning. My homework from Therapist 2.0 this week was to practice patience with myself, and think about what that might look like. Problem is of course that when I feel like this my ability to be compassionate with myself goes straight out the window, and evidently patience goes with it too. I’ve looked at my WRAP and decided I’ve moved on from daily maintenance into things are starting to slip, again, due in part to the fact that I haven’t been keeping up with the daily plan. I can make excuses till the cows come home but really? It’s no one’s fault but my own.
This is not me being patient and compassionate. This is me picking up the biggest stick I can find and beating myself black and blue with it. It’s not making me feel any better, it’s making me feel worse.
What do I know? I’m tired. I’m really, really, tired. The last ten days have been so draining, physically (tattoo) and emotionally. I’ve had one or other of my kids in during the night for at least half of those ten days. I feel I’ve hit a bit of a wall with Therapist 2.0 and Eden was remarkably tough yesterday. Let’s just go ahead and throw hormones into the mix because it’s that time of the month which never helps.
I think this morning, going back to bed is a legitimate need. If I manage to sleep, I’ll walk when I wake up. If I manage to walk, I’ll likely do my yoga. The house is not going to get clean this morning, the washing isn’t going to get put away. I can’t let guilt about that take over, because if I do, it’ll stop me doing everything else I need to do. I have to put me first. I have to try and be patient with myself.