Well today marked a turning point of sorts in my recovery. Yes writing late, though I actually finished up pre-11pm. Yes I still had super bad fatigue, and also felt ill a lot of the day – no not that. But something happened today that hasn’t happened in, a long time, pre-Covid really. For the first time, I got to the end of target, and I had to hold myself back from going on and on. I hit 1,350 in the end, but, I feel like I could have turned out 3,000 words without too much effort. That would mean a late night and it’s not worth it – I’m in no rush. Even so, that drive to write more than I need to, not just to bump up numbers or sprint to the finish, but because I was having fun, it’s, been a while.
To be clear, I enjoy writing. I didn’t used to enjoy it before 1K, because I had this mindset that it was a Foustian bargain: I could turn out a bunch of words, but I knew in my heart they weren’t great, and that I wouldn’t be able to write again for weeks or even months as another depression cycle began. The writing didn’t cause those cycles, disorder did, and that’s part of why the depression came back with such force when the world ended. I may be resilient, but I do not like change. Never have. That I’m finding enjoyment hints that, on some level, I’m finding order again. I have suspected it for a while, and you can see that in the last three weeks of posts but, I think today was even more proof.
There is of course a catch. I am tired, very tired. We all are right? It’s a slog right now even as the world unends around us. There’s a light at the end of the tunnel but, funny thing about hope, seeing it just out of reach can be worse than not seeing any at all. That holds true even as it grows ever closer, as rates drop, as treatments at least seem to work. The fog of the future is dense, and hope won’t be within reach until it lies in the rearview mirror. So while I’m less interlectually drained after my week off, earlier this month, emotionally I’m still on fumes, and that could see the whole new world order fall apart for me. I’m working hard to make that not happen but, it’s not like that has its own energy reserves. Energy spent keeping routines afloat untul they become automatic again is not spent on writing sooner, or on leisure.
But I want to stay positive. All that above, that’s me trying to be a realist, but in my heart I want this to be over and I think there’s a chance it might be sooner than I thought. I’m even rowing again, and my foot isn’t hurting too bad, which reduces the likelihood of a fracture. Bit by bit I’m fixing my head. I just need to stay the course, and keep my eye on the light at the end of the tunnel.