So, I made the decision to not attend one of the biggest conferences in my industry because I'm genuinely concerned with airline safety right now. As someone with anxiety who relies heavily on routine when traveling, especially by herself, the amount of hypervigilance I'd experience for the beginning and end of the trip would keep me from presenting my best self to friends, colleagues, and potential business contacts.
*sigh* Feels like I'm on the widest plateau ever some days.
Today has been a day for mental and physical recharge. This has looked like:
- waking up close to 9am
- cozy coffee and crochet
- video games
- a good brain wander for a new story idea
- research for my soon-to-be open Patreon
It's not that I've stopped being mad, I'm simply finding a bit of joy before I've got to fight again.
"But being mad won't make a difference."
"Maybe not, but I'm not going to pretend that any of this is acceptable and normal."
Also, y'all overestimate how much energy it takes to hold a grudge. Me and my five Scorpio planets simply make a decision and stick to that judgment.
"But it's unhealthy!"
It's emotional and psychological self-care, darlings. And if it gets me through this season and the coming storm, I'll do it.
Offspring was upset that I was upset yesterday. "You've been mad for two months, when are you going to stop?"
I reminded offspring that I was mad for more than four years beginning in November 2016, but they were too young to remember it.
Given the choice between mad and hopeless, you can bet I'm choosing mad. Mad gets shit done. Mad is not complacent. Mad stays ready.
Sweet striped chonk beneath the tree.
Coming back here, hoping to find people again. Currently reading up on gardening cycles in Florida, because... can't leave any time soon. Ugh.
It is a strange thing to be neurodivergent, have studied psychology, and grown up being undiagnosed (or at least uninformed of the diagnosis). I have spent the better part of a month wondering if this fugue/funk is just exhaustion, perimenopause, stress, or an amalgamation of the three. And it's likely the latter, but how long has it taken me to acknowledge it?
Longer than I'd like to admit. Sheesh.
Wishing I could opt out of family activities until the middle of January, but that's supposedly antisocial. Meh.
A busy day might be akin to juggling chainsaws for some people. For me, it's like juggling ferrets that may or may not be rabid, and knowing that there's a possibility that one will spontaneously combust if I breathe incorrectly. Oy.
