I took an unintentional week off from posting. My goal for this year was to post more consistently, and last month I was able to publish three posts a week! I had more time to plan and write and was able to schedule things out, so I didn't get behind. During my week isolating with Covid, I planned out what I would like to write until September. Once I was released from quarantine, I was excited to start my 90 Day journey. Excited is really an understatement. The Sunday night before I was unable to fall asleep. I wanted to get up and do all the things! I knew it was now or never and I wanted to start forging my path to better health and wellness.
Long story short, one night of no sleep turned into two, and then three. By Thursday I was running on fumes. I had managed to meet my goals for days 1-3, but I allowed myself to rest on day 4. I just forgot to tell myself to stop resting. My husband fell ill the following week. My daughter had a dance recital coming up. For reasons unknown to me, I began feeling low and struggling with my depression more than was usual. When week two was nearly at an end, and I had no progress to show for it, I considered giving up, deleting this blog post, and wallowing in self-pity for the rest of the summer.
I perked up after watching my oldest daughter during her recital. She was so beautiful, graceful, and confident on stage. My heart felt happier than it had in days but was almost spoiled when an intrusive thought popped into my head that told me it's too late for me.
Saturday evening, I was absolutely exhausted. My washing machine had started acting up (of all things) and tipped my anxiety and stress levels over the limit. The thought that it was too late for me to do anything important or worthwhile in my life was starting to become a belief. As a stay-at-home mom, I often feel guilty that I don't have a career or can provide financially for my family. I feel more burdened than blessed. I went to bed that night ready to give up for good...
...and then I slept. For the first night in over a week, I fell asleep at a decent hour. I also managed to sleep through my alarm. The kids didn't rouse me awake until close to 9 a.m. which is considered "sleeping in" for my family. That evening my husband gave me the night to myself and I was able to remind myself of why I was going on this journey in the first place. I turned on a Nelly Furtado playlist and planned out the upcoming week and the next four weeks of workouts that I'd like to do. Exercise always makes me feel better and it especially helps keep my anxiety and stress levels in check. Even though life was tough for a while, I found a break in the chaos and I'm taking the next step forward!
While there's not much progress to share at this time, I still have 75 days left in my journey and I know I will make them count!
