This morning I made enough room in the garage for my mom to park her car. We just dumped all the things that got wet from the basement in her garage and they still need to be sorted. At least now they are consolidated and the many empty boxes are collapsed and ready for recycling.
I think that helping clean up after the flood is good for me in a few ways. I got some practice pacing myself. Going slow. Marathon instead of sprint. I also did not feel overwhelmed and disheartened when I returned to my untidy house. I will work slowly. I will not panic. Things will get done.
I forgot to take my meds until this evening. But I did remember. Still have an unbroken record (when I have the prescription in hand) of daily compliance with medication.
I never realized how anxious I was until I took the time to slow down. I thought I was just very productive. Or enjoyed being busy. Or that I was somehow immune to sleep. However, I do believe that anxiety has been a factor in my brain chemistry stuff. This makes sense. I am a worrywart. I just don't like to think of myself that way. Perhaps because one of my friends has been hospitalized for anxiety attacks I feel that my anxiousness doesn't come close to that. And it doesn't count. Only I think it does.
Maybe now that I am no longer so fatigued I can recognize the anxiety. Who knows. I have the rest of August to kind of figure things out before the school year starts. I promise not to try to do everything.
Grateful Crap: coming home, getting an enthusiastic toddler's welcome
took meds (150mg sertraline, 300mg bupropion)
took chewable B vitamins
soaked in a hot tub to relax
Quaker, teacher, parent,