I’m starting to sleep more. I’ve moved from a constant fog to a bit of energy and a clearer mind, and I feel guilty that I don’t know what to do with them.
Do I no longer know how to be myself?
What did I wish I had time or mental space to do over the past year and didn’t do?
And yet, do I actually have the energy now to do anything, or am I just putting unnecessary pressure on myself?
He is already one year and six weeks old.
He throws his diapers in the trash, any piece of paper or lint he finds on the floor also goes in the trash, sometimes even things that shouldn’t go there :))
That’s how they build a habit: they repeat it 100 times, and it’s good to give them the chance to do it and involve them as much as possible in our activities.
Yesterday we played a little football, and the future with my wonderful little boy started to take shape — not just seeing a dependent baby anymore.
Even though I work four days a week, about five hours a day, and I come home exhausted, and in the morning I’m exhausted again after another night interrupted at least five times, it feels like a small light has started to appear.
To want to do some exercises in the morning and actually have the energy to do that twice a week, something like that.
To have time to write more.
To be able to take better care of the clinic’s management.
To walk Ari a bit more.
To organize my closet after a year.
To think about what I’m wearing before walking out the door, to look nice, not just throw clothes on.
I feel like I’m finding myself somehow.
And then I started to make a small plan:
to wake up,
to do the exercises,
to meditate for 10 minutes,
then shower and start the day with work and everything else.
Well, that’s where the thread broke.
I realized that I’m not ready yet to resume my old habits. I have a bit more energy, my average sleep per night has increased to almost seven hours, but they are seven interrupted hours and, as good as that may sound, my brain said: Hey, brake.
Then I realized that this is not the moment to put pressure on myself.
Not that I won’t find myself again or that I can’t take myself back from the shelf where I placed myself behind the closet for when I would be ready.
The old me, who exercised a little every day, meditated, and had tons of energy, is there and waiting quietly.
I don’t want to give birth to a new version of myself, frustrated at every step because she puts too much into her schedule and doesn’t manage to finish anything.
The road back to the old me is longer than I thought, but the present shows me that it wasn’t a stop, just a pause longer than I expected.
Where are you right now?
