More Listening (Blog #596)

Last night I slept well. Better than great. This morning I had a delightful breakfast, visited with my dad, and worked on organizing old photos. Then I read for maybe thirty minutes and took a nap because I was for whatever reason dog-tired. The nap was wonderful. Amazing really. Still, I woke up exhausted.

Pushing myself a bit, I went for a walk. Let’s move around, I thought. A little fresh air can’t hurt. So that’s what I did. Then I came back home, read a little more, and had dinner. Mom made chicken and rice. Yum.

Now it’s 9:15, and I’m still zapped. I’m not sure what it is. I’m not sick, I just don’t have much oomph. I don’t know, maybe we really are meant to sleep more in the winter. Personally, I’m starting to believe this getting dark early business is the universe’s way of saying, “Turn the lights off, damn it. Go to bed. Sleep.”

Earlier I tried blogging from my laptop, but my internet connection was bad, and I couldn’t upload tonight’s photo or save anything. After ten minutes of this nonsense, I finally gave up. Stop fighting, I thought. Use your phone.

So that’s what I’m doing.

I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve fought with my laptop and internet connection since starting this blog. The number of times I’ve forced myself to stay awake in order get this done. It’s all been my choice, of course, but it’s been exhausting. Plus, much of it was while I was sick with a chronic sinus infection or the flu. Like, my body’s been through a lot this last year, and on top of everything, I was push, push, pushing it to do more.

So dark at four in the afternoon or not, no wonder my body wants to rest.

I’m trying to do my best to listen. To not push through, to not force myself, and to not freak out and assume something is terribly wrong. I’m dying. I have a disorder. Instead, I’m just trying to listen and not complicate things. My body wants to rest. My body wants to relax. It’s that simple.

In response to this simple information, I’m about to end this and get ready for bed. For me, this will be is a small but powerful act of self-care. Less fighting. Less pushing. More listening to myself.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Whereas I've always pictured patience as a sweet, smiling, long-haired lady in a white dress, I'm coming to see her as a frumpy, worn-out old broad with three chins. You know--sturdy--someone who's been through the ringer and lived to tell about it.

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