Yesterday I woke up feeling shit, and I spent the rest of the day mostly feeling shit.
I was weighed down in terrible feelings, sad memories, hopeless future thoughts. My toddler was driving me bonkers, though I am sure she could feel how low I was feeling, and probably was reacting in a way to get my attention.
We did next to nothing all morning. I didn’t shower or brush my teeth or brush my hair. The TV was third-parenting. We had a nap for an hour and a half, which was somewhat refreshing. I thought about how the day had been poop for both of us and dragged myself out the house, in a fresh pair of pyjamas, to take Violet to the park.
This morning I woke up feeling the same kind of shitty feelings. I could have stayed curled up on the sofa again and very easily bailed on Violet’s local playgroup, but somehow I didn’t.
I showered, dressed in people clothes, put make-up on, brushed my hair, and took Violet to playgroup.
I guess it just shows that even though yesterday felt suffocating, as if nothing would ever change and I would feel like that forever, there is a little hope in that each day is different. Recovery is not linear. My recovery is not linear.
“All people… manage to go through life one day at a time, despite the fact that we do it holding weapons that could easily destroy us at any moment. Every day brings a new miracle.”
– Amrita, Banana Yoshimoto