It could be a slight case of jet lag, or the fact that yesterday I worked a much later shift than normal.
Or it may be a combination of the two. Either way, I am not feeling very productive this morning. That is the real culprit. It is not the fact that I am plodding along this morning. Feeling bad about plodding along is what’s going on.
I am allowing myself to feel guilty for not being more awake.
Because I am feeling slow, my mind says, “you are bad, and you aren’t doing all you can, so you should feel bad.†Even as I write this, I begin to see the flawed logic of this idea. I am judging my actions against what? It must be I am judging what I am accomplishing against my best, most productive day ever.
Why am I using near perfection to measure my productivity this morning?
And why should I ever be measuring my list of daily accomplishments against my best days? This is beginning to sound like a form of unhelpful thinking, the type my depression loves to throw around. It doesn’t matter if it is possible, depression just wants me to feel guilty for not living up to my potential.
Or live up to what depression tells me is my potential for perfection.
Setting the bar way beyond my grasp is not important. Getting me to feel guilty for not consistently exceeding this standard is one of depression’s goals. Depression is happiest when I am feeling guilty for something. Often, I feel guilty for things in which I am not even involved.
In the end, this feeling of guilt keeps me from seeing that I am practicing self-care.
My body knows what is going on and knows what it can and cannot do on any given day. It is attuned to how best to keep itself running smoothly. Sometimes it can run at top speed for days on end. Other times, it needs a chance to recover. That seems to be where I am at this morning. Today is a catch-up day. Depression doesn’t have the full story.
Despite feeling like I have a case of the slows, I am getting things done.
In fact, I started last night with laundry from my trip. And as soon as I was up this morning, I moved loads from the washer to the dryer. Additionally, I am writing. Plus, I packed my lunch, filled, and ran the dishwasher, feed the dog, got a shower, and dressed for the day.
On my way to work, I am stopping to pick up our taxes.
And did I mention that I wrote a thank you card to my grandson, my daughter-in-law, and my son? Somehow, this does not read like a case of the slows. Nor does it seem I am finished, as I will have a 9-hour shift at work after I arrive.
