Today, I am supposed to run a live learning space for my job (planned last week) and meet a friend I met online in 2022 for the first time for coffee (planned yesterday). Both events, I am lucky enough to desperately love and want to do.
I am sitting with my face in my hands, trying not to cry so I don’t screw up my learning space makeup.
I am so tired I can barely move. For no reason.
Yesterday, I did 10 minute of light yoga. I actually ate a balanced breakfast instead of no breakfast at all. I took a shower. I went on walks with my dogs. I went to bed early. I didn’t drink. I did all the self-care stuff I’m supposed to do.
And then I woke up in the middle of the night with random swelling in all of my muscles and pain that was so awful I took four ibuprofen, something I try really hard not to do. I went right back to sleep. FitBit says I have a sleep score of 80+.
Existing takes so much energy that I simply do not have.
This is making it so utterly miserable to make plans. I don’t look forward to anything. I thought about it yesterday, and I think I used to–look forward to things.
I realize today why I hate making plans: I never know how I will feel in the future. I never know if I will have to cancel, or if I will have grit my teeth and force myself through it in the name of being a good friend, a good daughter, a good ally, a good person.
Only to collapse after.
I only know how I feel right now.
Tomorrow is never guaranteed, and history says the future, whatever it is and no matter how excited I am for something, is likely to be miserable in some capacity.
I can do everything right and still be a barely-functioning shell of a human being because at any given moment, I can have a Hashimoto’s flare and have no energy to do the things I love or even the things that I have to do.
Maybe I simply won’t make plans going forward. That would probably be what’s best for my mental health. Possibly physical too. Last-minute everything.
…Except I kind of need to stay employed, so. Some concessions will have to be made.
So, here I am. Writing down my three daily gratitudes. Trying to focus on the positives. What else can I do?
I suppose I’m grateful that I still can do these things. Even though they hurt. Even though they are sticky with exhaustion.
…In retrospect, I’m not sure if this is a flare, or if I’m actually getting sick. Guess I’ll find out!