Killing two birds with one drive
Date: April 2nd, 2025
I packed my bag on the way to work, face scrunched up, with tears burning my eyes. The weight of its contents matched how fatigued and heavy my body felt from being forced out the house due to obligation.
If I couldn’t move my body to get out of the house the previous weekend, I would use the obligation of work to my advantage. My bag was filled with items for a small trip to the water’s edge. I cried as I packed, despite knowing this was the only way to beat the mental block in my mind. I needed a small win with my depression.
I have no choice but to drive to and from work, so taking a detour afterwards would be simple, since I was already clean, fed, and in the car. I spent the entire day mentally preparing, got on the road after my shift and enjoyed dinner with my boyfriend while being blinded by the glistening water.
Most importantly, we saw ducks.
Daylight time ramblings
Date: March 14, 2025
Daylight savings almost makes up for the lack of holidays in the beginning of the year. I miss it as soon as we fall back an hour, even though standard time adds to the coziness of the holidays at the end of the year.
We have the sun back. I can leave work without worrying about it getting dark within minutes when I run errands or want to go to the park. I can go on walks in my neighborhood in the sunlight, instead of being too scared to go out in the cover of night. Who or what else might be using the darkness as cover?
**
I keep thinking about the ducks that were still at the park swimming in the lake during the 40 degree weather. I wonder what ended up happening to them and why they didn't fly south for the winter. I crack up everytime I think of them !
I am so excited to see more ducks, now that the weather is warmer! Wish I could sit with them and pet them. Now, I could use my free will and try it, but I have a feeling that I might not like their use of free will towards me.
**
With such a great time of year for sunlight, this is also when severe weather and tornadoes become more frequent. I dread tornado season !!!!! I am currently charging my devices and getting a backpack ready as I type this. Each season they get worse and during these last few years, there have been more during the off season. If I ever buy a house, I need to move somewhere with a basement for some peace of mind.
“Ruetine”. I have rued many days.
Date: March 3, 2025
I’ve adopted that spelling for this moment only, to emphasize that I am NOTHING without a routine. My daily routine to prepare for work is the only reason why I consistently take care of my hygiene and bodily needs: shower, brush teeth, eat, moisturize, style my thick textured hair…. the works.
You really think you know yourself until the routine switches from obligatory to optional. I had the misfortune of realizing this a few months ago when I was allowed to temporarily (yet reluctantly by management) work from home for a few weeks.
I was excited. The majority of my energy is centered around getting through the work day and work week, so I thought the relief of not being on site would be one less energy syphon. I had already been dealing with burnout for the past few years, but in the months leading up to that, I was getting worse.
I cry over everything, but I noticed a progression. I was sobbing Sunday night before work, the night before work, on my way to work, at work. I was making a habit of getting to work late (by a few minutes) because my body was so heavy, I could barely get out of bed.
Needless to say, when the time came, I smelled bad, I could feel the dirt on my skin, I was unkempt, and essentially starved myself for most of my days. I had little bursts of energy and sporadically did bits and pieces of my routine after my brain suddenly let the task paralysis waver. It was short lived, but at least I did something. Ironically, I did drink a healthy amount of water. Little victories.
I know myself a little better now. I shatter with no routine, even more so because I am so utterly burned out. The obligation of my work routine forces me to not rot away under my sheets and pillows. It has created the facade of a well put together young woman ready to take on the day’s tasks within the workforce.
I had myself fooled. I had no idea.
How scary.
Wage slave Lamenting
Date: Feb 25, 2025
I don’t feel like a person. Not in the familiar Autistic sense of feeling like an otherworldly being that was abandoned on Earth, but the concept of existing, mindlessly programmed with two objectives: Clock in. Blur. Clock out. Blur. More times than I’d like to admit, literally a blur because my tears distort my surroundings. I wish I could fuse my emotions into those tears and have them wiped away.
For years, I have been burned out and unfortunately ill in more ways than one, physically, mentally- permanently. It feels weird to write. Actually, it feels painful to write. Emotionally, I don’t want to accept how my youth has been spent in pain and discomfort. It has manifested into a melancholic personality. I recently learned why the pain and discomfort persisted. I hadn’t realized the beginning of the end had come and gone over a decade ago. What was the catalyst? I will never know…
Physically, my body aches and breaks, nothing new under the sun.
Burnout has my neurodivergence and health issues laid bare for all to see. I carry on my day as if I am yet another working adult, but I am not. I am disabled. Disabled enough to need help with basic tasks and taking care of myself, after moving mountains at work, but “normal” enough to be expected to live like someone who isn't disabled.
How can these situations coexist?
I have no choice but to find out