My day

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The day started off tired. I felt this way regularly. Probably close to 7 yrs of being up at night. Thus, mornings are a bitch!

Java. Coffee. I pour it in with hopes of being more alert, to no avail. I play on social media. Answer a few messages...maybe..hard to think in the head fog. Nope...can't stay up.

Nap.
That's right. I have to sleep. My eyes are too heavy.
An hour and a half. That is about how long that sleep is. I am probably at a total of 5 hrs now.

Dragging my ass. I force myself to shower and dress. I just want to go back to bed.
I pick a task. There are plenty to chose from as I live in the 'packing for a move' space. What shall it be? Clean a bit. Knit. Pack a box. Errands?

I want to go out. I want to stay home.

There is an anxiety building.

Tension in. But I can hide in my area.

Out is noise and people and sometimes it can be too much. Out is freedom from the daily tension tho.

I feel a sort of defeat.

My attitude could use some positivity.
I need to be in laughter. I need to feel confidence. I need to feel safe by myself and with others.

I am not my diagnosis. Not any of them. Labels that point to how I am. Deeper is who I am.
So many labels do give me a feeling of Damaged. Broken. Unlovable.

The mantras are ;
I am perfect as I am.
I am beautiful inside and out.
I am worthy of love.
I am strong and brave.
I can do this.

The days are what they are. I can just do my best.

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