So you might remember me being all enthusiastic about getting up at five and finally moving forward on all my goals.
That didn’t last long.
I never managed to go to bed early enough, and so I didn’t have any energy, of course, and then we had that big performance, and I moved my sleep schedule back to normal, and then I just couldn’t get back into the groove.
Plus I still felt weird about the whole affirmation-thing.
Since I wasn’t getting anything done, and since I was still so tired that I was binge-eating almost every night I decided that getting enough sleep had to become my top priority. So I’m going to bed some time between 9.30 and 10 at the moment, and then I sleep until I wake up or until 6.30, whatever happens first.
And I’m back to my old routine of only writing in my journal when I have some extra time before getting up, and of meditating and writing on my novel right after breakfast. The bad thing about this is that I often don’t want to write because I never know when my husband will be getting up and coming over for breakfast. As I’m writing this it’s 8.45, and he can be here any moment. It could also be that he will show up at 9.30, this makes my mornings a little unpredictable.
But I decided to be cool with this and to just move things around as needed. Yesterday he was up real early but then I sat down to write at noon, something I never do. And it went well. But it was hard too.
I’m not back at a point where doing the things I want to do every day feels in any way easy. Sometimes I doubt that they will ever feel easy. I’m probably doomed to be a person who has to force herself to do the dishes every single time. Which does become a little exhausting. I seem to be a person full of resistance every single step of the way.
Like with running. I am right in the middle of doing a Couch to 10K-programm. I have now done week six and seven three times or so, and I still don’t manage to run for longer than two minutes at a time. Each time I vow that this time I won’t give up early, and power through. And each time I have some stupid excuse that I just can’t go on. It is too hot. There is someone with a dog, and I don’t want to run when the dog can see me because I’m afraid it will bite me. I have to walk so I can listen better to my podcast. Also it is way too hot.
And every time I swear to myself that this time I will run all three minutes, every single time, and then every single time I don’t do it. And every single evening I solemnly swear that I will brush my teeth right after dinner and get ready for bed, and not eat any chocolate or almonds or peanuts, and then every single day I find myself sitting in bed eating and feeling miserable. Mind you, I also feel miserable if I don’t eat chocolate, that’s why I do it, at that moment it feels better to eat and at least have that little splinter of pleasure instead of not eating. The only problem is that that makes me gain weight again, and I don’t like gaining weight either.
So I guess I have to learn to be just a little harder to myself. Because trying to feel good and comfortable all the time makes me really miserable in the long run.
So I’m trying. Every single day, and I’m failing. Every single day. And I’m running out of patience with myself but I still don’t want to give up.
Because that would be the alternative. Leaning back thinking, „Oh, I’ll just not write a novel than, no problem.“ and „Oh, I just get back to walking, who needs to be able to run?“ and also, „Well, I guess I’m just not cut out to be a slim person, people in my family have always been a bit on the chubby side.”
Which would be perfectly alright. Because many, many people would be happy having the life I have even without the writing and the running and the being thin.
Only I wouldn’t.
And that’s my dilemma.
I know what I need to do in order to be happy but I don’t do it because it doesn’t feel good while I do it.
So. What do you do when you find yourself in a situation like this? Give up? Try harder? Something else?