I’ve caught myself gauging the importance of tasks based on how much energy they use. Everything has a meter and comes with a price.
I choose tasks blindly as I’m not sure how much energy I have until I run out. I’m in the learning stages of illness.
Here’s a great example: I was in bed most of last week because the week before I worked 6 days. Even though I was strict about resting as soon as I got home it didn’t matter. My body revolted.
Yesterday, Jase and I had the day off together. We live near Rocky Mountain National Park. I think, “What harm could there be in taking a drive to see the mountains?” Jase can drive, I can rest and enjoy the view. Harmless.
I spent the entire day nauseous, dizzy and feeling like my muscles were burning up. As much as I enjoyed being out, the physical discomfort was exhausting.
To get my mind off myself I started complimenting strangers and petting their dogs. It’s free, requires little to no energy and makes us all feel a little better.
I’m off today, and I’m here with my “to do” list. It has everything from cutting my toe nails to getting an oil change. In the forefront of my mind: is that yesterday kicked my ass and tomorrow I have someone’s house to clean (gotta make money to survive) and a doctors appointment right after. I am well aware of the strain tomorrow will bring.
Frustrated that cleaning homes is my livelihood. If I stop working completely I’m royally fucked. If I continue putting my body though rigorous activity I’m royally fucked. Getting a non physically taxing job won’t pay as much and I’ll have to work double the amount of time.
I am searching for the humor in this. I feel like there’s a critter meandering through the maze in my brain, bumping into wall after wall after wall.
I should probably quit all this thinking and go cut my toe nails.