The funk I’d been in all week broke yesterday. Funk for me = broken routines, lack of focus, unexplainable lethargy. But yesterday my body pulled all the energy it needed back to my heart and I felt awake, capable, and not sad. It’s important for me to know my triggers so I can be proactive about not slipping into more serious depressive episodes, but it’s equally important to know what leads to better days.
I was feeling so good that I stopped myself at work and wrote down on a post-it what I had done differently that day:
- I went in (to work) early
- I cleaned my desk
- I wore comfy but nicer clothes
- I got enough sleep
- I washed my hair
- I felt good about writing
I would add at the end of the day: a hike when it’s nice outside, a good sandwich and a good show, groceries in the fridge, and laundry put away.
Not exactly a breakthrough formula for happiness, but I’ll take it. There have been days where I’ve done all the above and they’ve still been bad days. Or medium days. But so many good days too. The apparently inconsequential beats of my day have an enormous impact on the health of my heart.
I’m paying more attention to how my body works through sadness and I’ve observed that I need it to sit in me, to play out it’s full conversation, to make me watch it dance and leaden my limbs and then, slowly, fade. It blurs faster if I do some of the things I did yesterday. Or the things I did in the days before that allow me to sink but not drown: to talk aloud, to go for walks, to write, to sleep, to be sober, to be kind, to see myself for who I am.
I have not had a perfect week. I’ve ordered pizza. I’ve skipped the gym in favor of more leisurely walks. I’ve cancelled plans.
But I’ve carried what I could: the walks, the writing, the work.
A stumble rather than a face-plant. Then days like yesterday right me on my feet. As the proverb goes, a stumble may prevent a fall.
So stumble, stumble, stumble, and keep moving.
With Love,
Natalie
We all stumble, often together.