This is either going to sound like a cry for help, which it isn’t, or a majorly self depricating pity party. It may be the latter. But if it is, know that I didn’t intend for it to be.

I didn’t intend on a lot of things. Like how despite the help of a career counselor, numerous resources and an amazing support system, I still lack the motivation required to search for a job. I know it’s more complicated than that. I have executive function issues that sometimes make carrying out tasks difficult, especially if there is a high level of stress attached to the task. But I’ve said that so many times it’s become a crutch. Better to say I lack the motivation. That way I can be disappointed in myself.

That’s something else I never intended would happen. I’m a college graduate who’s married to a wonderful man whom I’m very happy with and yet, more often than not, I find I’m disappointed in myself. I keep trying to refocus and remind myself that it’s ok to have small victories instead of big ones. But there are a lot of days lately where I don’t even accomplish a small victory.

And I’m aware of it. I really am. I know my house is a wreck and the laundry needs done. I know there’s a sink full of dishes and the kitchen is dirty. But for the life of me I can’t seem to strike a balance between what my brain needs to think about and what my body needs to do.

Every day in my brain: get up and job search, make calls to doctors and catheter company and the government and the wheelchair vendor. Then clean- living room, bedroom, bathroom, kitchen and cook. And that cycles over and over to the point that I can barely manage to get dressed and eat something.

And forget prioritizing. Because it all needs to be done, so it’s all equally important. That makes getting started a nightmare. So nothing gets done and I continue to stew. Sometimes I’ll flip out and have a meltdown over everything I should be doing and the person I should be. Other times I am actually able to wash my hands of the stress and do something I enjoy, have fun. More often than not entire weekends are devoted to enjoying Netflix marathons and junk food with Nathan.

So it’s not so much that I’m stuck mulling over life twenty-four /seven. I can just as easily get stuck in the happy moments. But sooner or later I’m spit
out the other side back into whatever is stressing me out.

I don’t have balance. There’s no balance between getting things accomplished and having fun, no balance between thinking through a game plan and actually finishing tasks. And worse I can’t muster up the motivation because I’m bogged down by the feeling that life is so far out of hand and I let it get that way.

I’m not even sure what the point of saying all this is, unless it’s just to get it all out. That’s not even seemed good enough lately, so I haven’t written in almost a month. Maybe that’s where I need to start. Create some intentionality in my life. I’m tired of feeling like my life is being acted out on me and I’m just along for the ride.