I guess things are moving along. I’ve been able to open up a tiny bit to a small number of people lately, which has been nice, though a little awkward. Not because of anyone’s fault but just because that’s the nature of things.
I have been working on getting things around me organized more nicely. Partly, I believe that this is because it is an easy distraction. Let’s face it; there’s plenty to do. But I also believe that I’m trying to create some space in my life. There really isn’t any right now, because there is so much chaos everywhere, and it’s just frankly overwhelming.
I guess you could say that I’ve come to realize that…how do I put this? Well, I guess just that I need to take care of myself, right? That’s the core of it. I haven’t been…and this was true for a long time. I have spent my entire life thinking that I’d have time for things later. That becomes less true every day and I’m starting to really feel that.
If you’re neurotic, you can find it pretty easy to make little allowances for yourself. Like, you’re mentally ill so whatever you had to do today was likely harder than if you weren’t. If you want a drink, or to just throw your clothes on the floor, or whatever, you have a fairly decent argument to make to yourself, who is tired, mentally ill and in no condition to argue. A nice little irony is that, in a way, the better you’re doing in a given period, the better the argument is that you can make to be irresponsible because you’ve ‘earned it’.
Those things add up. They really do. Right now, what has happened to me is that I’ve arrived at a point in my life where I need more from myself, but these sort of organizational misgivings have accrued to a point where they really are an impediment to daily function. For example, if you have to get ready for work in the dark, half asleep, before dawn, it might make sense to organize and put away your wardrobe, especially if it’s made up of mostly darks. It might make less sense to keep your clothes in a series of bin or basket-shaped containers, mixed together in uneven assortments of clean, folded, dirty, and unfolded laundry. If the bins were actually the improvement you’ve made over the piles you kept in the floor before them, and if literally every facet of your life was in a similar condition, you’d kind of have an idea of where I was at.
It’s going to be ok. I don’t have any real reason to believe that I can’t do this stuff and, slowly, it is all getting done, and I’m always trying.
It is really overwhelming though, and that part is hard.