Lately I’ve had to completely revise my expectations of myself. A lot of the time I can’t seem to get those new rules in my head, but I’ve been getting better and better. Once upon a time I used to work three jobs. Now all I have to do to consider it a productive day is wake up, leave the bed, prepare dinner and do one daily chore. Bonus points if I do any yoga. And at night we usually go on a walk so I at least leave the house once a day.
There are lots of other things I want to be doing, but I don’t often have enough strength to do them.
Yesterday I woke up at about 1 in the afternoon (another late night the night before), I did one load of laundry, vacuumed the house, did a very little bit of yoga, made dinner, and then I collapsed on the couch. I try to avoid the pain pills during the day, but I had to take my first one at about 3 in the afternoon. It didn’t work. Jared made it home, we ate, and then I took another pill – all I’m allowed to have in one six hour period – and it still didn’t work. I had such shooting pains throughout my chest and back and abdomen that I couldn’t breath and Jared had to throw me in a bath so I wouldn’t lose it entirely.
It really sucks that that’s all it takes to send me overboard.
Today I’m hanging close to the couch. I have about five knitting/crochet/crosstitch/etc. projects going on at once that I rotate through whenever I get bored with one, so that’s all I’m going to do. It at least creates the illusion of productivity without the hassle of, say, standing up.