Desperate Measures

So I stayed up too late on Sunday, making orange bread.

I was thrashed Monday. I told myself I’d go to bed early. I didn’t, really.

Tuesday, I had a hard time controlling my temper. We had evening activities. I struggled.

Wednesday, I mostly kept things together, but I was making mistakes. We had evening activities.

Thursday, I hated everyone and felt like I had vertigo, so my appetite was off and I was completely miserable. I got my end of year bonus at work, it was a lot more than I was expecting, and even that couldn’t redeem my bad mood. We had a penance service at church. These always make me emotional (I don’t like admitting when I’m wrong, no matter how good I believe it is for my soul.) We wrapped up early. I was very relieved. I don’t allow for a lot of unscheduled shopping, with my mom, because she makes such a meal of it. I asked her if she wanted to go to the Christian bookstore, which we don’t get to do that often. She said “but we left our coupons at home!” I said “yeah, but if you find something you want, you can pick it out and I can come back with the coupon. Plus, they probably will spot us the coupon if we explain.” She said “only if you want to.” I thought she was just being nice, so I drove there. She asked “what else is in this shopping center.” I thought she meant that she recognized it and was trying to place it, but no. She wouldn’t go into the Christian bookstore. Told me to take my time, but stayed in the car.

I was miserable in there. I bought things, but was miserable.

I took the dog for a walk, when we got home. Three consecutive nights of home alone is not his idea of a good time, so I’ve been worrying over that. I felt better after the walk. I mentioned that one of our Christmas decorations kind of blends into the dark background of our front door. Mom made a face and snapped an answer. I was back to being miserable. I cleaned for a little, and realized that all this started because I stayed up too late on Sunday—the night wasn’t going to get better. I started the going-to-bed routine. Mom said she wanted to talk about the Christmas decoration, but then, when I tried to talk about it, she changed the subject and asked me to get her something. I got it for her, told her I was going to bed. She made another face. I found a medium-sized mistake in my work email while I was brushing my teeth. I had been on the verge of tears since the end of the penance service. I decided really nothing good was coming of things while I felt this way. So I went to bed. Honest-and-truly in bed before 10, asleep probably by 10:15. More than 8 hours of sleep for the first time in a long while.

It was so the right answer. I feel so much better today— so much more in control of my emotions, so much healthier, so much more effective. And even if Mom’s irritated that I just wouldn’t engage, I’ll be better able to handle it, not exhausted.

I’m not sure why it takes me going all the way down the rabbit hole to realize I’m exhausted and working against myself, but I’ll try to work on realizing it earlier, and just getting some rest.

 

 

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