It’s been about a week where I’ve found it immensely difficult to apply myself to any tasks that don’t directly relate to homemaking or caring for RJ. At the end of the evening I feel so gassed out I haven’t done yoga in a while. I’m also maybe overthinking it, but looking deeper into yoga I realize there’s a huge spiritual and systemic component to it. Because I tend to have an all or nothing mindset, it’s difficult to reconcile that I’m not searching for enlightenment which seems to be the end goal of yoga. And yeah, I’m actually reading the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, there’s some great philosophy to apply. But some things are too much considering where I am with life. I know reading about the philosophy and continuing practice is a middle ground where I should feel comfortable, but moderation and middle ground is something that doesn’t come easy for me.
I’m aware of my tendency to get hyperfixated on things. Especially when husband is at sea. Yoga was my current one. But I have managed to turn some of these things into long term habits or hobbies. Like programming, weightlifting (before pregnancy), knitting and crocheting. I miss working out consistently, but being home with a toddler, and on very broken sleep (when will this teething end, it’s been nonstop since September), I just feel I have absolutely nothing left to give.
My studies with programming have stalled cause I feel my brain is just sleepy mush barely held functional by caffeine. My energy goes to cleaning, figuring out what to cook, cooking for RJ, grocery shopping, constant budgeting and reddit. Today I pretty much rage-cleaned because I got fed up with barely being able to stay on top of chores and the apartment being messy. Instant noodles and dumplings have become my favorite dishes because they require so little effort. At the same time I do my best to cook very healthy and proper meals for RJ that usually take about 2-3 hours behind the stove in total. Because of my parosmia, I’ve lost a lot of joy from cooking for myself. Biggest offenders are eggs, garlic and onions, they smell absolutely putrid and sickening. I used to love garlic-based dishes, fresh salads with onion. Now I can’t stand the whiff of them. Eggs are only tolerable fried and with a lot of ketchup.
So yeah, I don’t mean to make any excuses but I’m in a state where I don’t even mind the fact no one has really time to meet up or come visit me. That makes me think of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. My physiological need for sleep has been unmet for a while now (as is normal for a mom, right? Superwoman and all that other flattery), so I’m not worrying about the things I usually worry about – if I’ll be able to get into vocational school and actually pull off the career pivot, if my friendships are just falling away unless I always take initiative, if I’m doing enough, if I’m being enough.
Currently I’m being more than enough every day, even though my threshold for enough has lowered significantly. Every chore I push myself to do, every time I get up during RJ’s nap and go behind the stove, every time I go out with RJ in this freezing weather to get him some fresh air is way over what I feel I’m capable of right now. So I allow myself to feel proud instead of resentfully thinking how isolated I’ve felt and how I’ve yearned to just keep sleeping, to not get out of bed for a whole day or two. There is no point in thinking like that. And I’m finally really starting to understand that. So this is what I’m trying instead: Just one day at a time, trying to make what I can of it, with whoever wants to be in it. And giving myself a bit more grace than I’m used to.
Thanks for reading, I’ll be signing off for now.
Have a good day!
-Ann
Listening to: I Say a Little Prayer – Aretha Franklin
One Day at a Time 
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