The last few weeks have been hard anxiety-wise. And I have no reason or explanation for it at all. I’m not feeling particularly stressed or worried about anything more than normal.
There are a number of reasons that I struggle to get out of bed:
I am not a naturally patient person. I’ve always been impatient. As a child, I would count down to summer break and movie releases. I was at the bookstore as soon as each Harry Potter book was released.
Recently, I wrote about our experience when our apartment’s floors flooded during the holidays for No Sidebar, one of my favorite sites about simple living and minimalism (my article is here) Sites like No Sidebar helped me to realize that I was literally making myself sicker—mentally and physically—on the path I was on.
January is a rough month. And this January has been rougher than many. As soon as I started to feel better from the medication transitions I came down with a bad cold. I’m having trouble shaking it. A lot of my goals have been put aside while I focus on making tea and food that I can eat despite my aching throat. I haven’t worked out or attended my doctor appointments, or done much of anything but the bare minimum.