I love Sundays, Gentle Reader. They’re my favorite day of the week. I feel comfortable in them, and they’re when my week starts, in my agendas, on my Trello, just in my head. So I start with a hope for the week, that I will get through the blocks keeping me from working, and develop some coping strategies for my stress.
The problem is, of course, that nothing’s working. I’ve been dealing with anxiety and depression and OCD my entire life, but in treatment for the past eight years. I know the strategies. I know what works for me. And none of it is working. I’m struggling hard and trying to get past this.
I’m not very good with the “one day at a time” mentality. I’m a planner. I like things in chunks of time. It’s how I think best. But maybe this is what I need to get through my days. Thinking about what can conceivably–not over the top, but conceivably–get done in one day. Taking into account mental health and cleaning and such.
It’s a start. I’ll report back and let you know how it goes.
The Postmodern Bluestocking 