I have to admit, I think over the past month I’ve lost touch with something in me that I valued. I’m not exactly sure what it is, and for reasons I’ll share further in, I won’t put any more energy into pinpointing precisely what I mean. This is my attempt at a Hemingway-style account of my day today as I try to document the individual pieces in isolation.
10:00a
My phone alarm goes off. I vaguely remember setting the 10a alarm sometime during the night—probably at 8am when my Hatch alarm went off, although I don’t remember that happening.
10:30a
I’m in bed, and I look at the time. I feel exhausted. I barely move. I press snooze. Light is coming in through the window.
Snooze goes off- press.
Snooze goes off- press.
Snooze goes off-press.
I stir. I flip on social media. Things happen before my eyes. After maybe 10 minutes, I flip the phone back off and rest.
11:00a
The time is edging closer to my 11:30a psychiatrist appointment, and I check to make sure the alarm is still on. Yup. Rest. Snooze—press. Rest.
11:15a
I wish the upcoming appointment didn’t exist. I’m sure I smell. My hair is messy. I need to go to the office. I forgive myself because my sleep was thrown off, and I prioritized getting rest this morning. I feel I have no drive. I feel pressure. I don’t dwell on it.
I roll to the side. I rest.
11:22a
Time to get my laptop. Where to take the call? The couch.
I can’t find the link in my emails. I can’t find the laptop charger. The bar on the top right of the screen is red.
11:27a
I get to the couch and turn on the laptop and find the link and join. I run off to find a laptop charger.
11:32a
I fail. I return. Dr. M is there, and I do the appointment.
12:00p
The Alexa alarm goes off reminding me to eat. I ignore and forget the voice. The appointment continues.
12:15p
The appointment concludes. I passively remember my self-commitment to the office as I get back into bed. I’m tired. I feel alright about getting into bed. I tell myself it’s what my body needs today.
This account is just about the things that happen around me and how I experience them, as individual and isolated moments.
Because as the culminating moments of frustration swirled around me this week and began bearing down like flushing a toilet full of stagnant water, one small thought overrode everything. It was unexpected. It felt like teleporting. It was a moment between 12:15-1:30p, I think.
Then and there, I threw off the blanket and announced “ok girl, we’re getting up.”
And I went to where my ADHD pills were, and I took them. And I went back to my bed to curl up. But it wasn’t the same. I fumbled on my phone and posed a question to myself. And the lights behind my eyes came blinking back on like I’d flipped the switch of an abandoned amusement park. There was depth. Volume.
There were ideas. Questions began to buzz. Those ideas prompted more questions. I felt curious. The curiosity moved my fingers to my phone, to the internet. I felt the search results spark my interest. I read, questioned and investigated.
I felt inspiration, and this drive. It blossomed in me. I sprang up. I brushed my teeth as the shower water warmed. I scrubbed, dried, and dressed. It wasn’t mechanical, but it was smooth.
What happened?
I attended the appointment. It brought up things I wanted and didn’t want. I didn’t care much at the moment—I didn’t let myself think about it much as things unfolded—but I did a little.
1:16p
My dad called. I ignored it. No will to answer. I texted him I hadn’t been productive and needed to be productive before dinner with friends. I asked if he was doing alright, because the other stuff didn’t feel like enough. He asked me the same.
1:33p
I told him about the appointment and the new medication, because I’d agreed to keep him updated on medication changes. I sat passively. I felt tired and didn’t want to bother. I thought about the week. I told myself maybe it’ll be ok if I don’t attend the networking event today. I thought about not going to dinner, either. The thoughts sounded like freedom in a way.
Then I thought about the yucky diagnosis. I thought about the words she uttered. I’m not sure if I was angry at her for thinking it, for saying it. Thoughts came and went. I didn’t dwell on any of them, really.
What do I want? What do I need?
One passing thought questioned if I was genuinely tired or if I was feeling the effects of inconsistent medication. I’ve been waking up late. How many have I skipped? Something dormant stirred in me.
I threw off the covers.
It’s 2:37p and I’m clean, dressed, and feverishly typing on my phone because I could not find my laptop charger.
I’m surrounded by all the things around me that need to get done. There’s a debilitating mess of things around me to get done. Taking my sheets to the washer doesn’t seem so challenging. In fact, I’ll take care of that right now…
2:40p
The sheets have been taken up to the washer, but the washer had a clean load than had been sitting for days. I am washing that load, and my sheets are waiting there on the floor to be next.
2:50p
I move because I desire. I search for the inspiration that moved me first to the shower. I want to reconnect with that idea. It’s hazy. Before me is a mess. Do I go to my office and attend the 4:30p networking event? Or do I stay here and work? Do I go to the office and skip the networking event? It doesn’t feel like an option. Why not? I must brush my hair, though. I must dry it too. The brush is in my car, I think. What else?
My power to envision a new solution and the the feeling of uplift when I create—I feel alive as the blood pumps in my chest.
I want to chew gum, I want to innovate. Maybe Kickstarter isn’t the right starting point. Maybe I don’t have to decide right now.
It’s 2:56p.
4:04p
I’m in the office. I spent 15 minutes online looking around at things that are beside the point. Since, I’ve been putting this account together. The networking thing begins in 25 minutes. I feel compelled to go, and I know I don’t have to. I can stay here typing and interpreting and reflecting if I want to.
I don’t have to decide now.
4:06p
How had I wanted to integrate today’s earlier thoughts with my project? The ideas were bubbling in me. They felt electrifying. I am gathering them in my head, but some flutter away. I’ll collect them. I’ll get it done.
I look back now at chatGPT and the response it gave me when I was giving off those curiosity sparks earlier this afternoon. It says:
“Fatigue as a Perceived vs. True Need
- True Fatigue: Caused by actual sleep deprivation, physical exertion, or circadian misalignment.
- Perceived Fatigue: Can be caused by medication withdrawal, dopamine depletion, mental fatigue, or executive dysfunction.
- Key Takeaway: The brain interprets low-energy states based on context, meaning that if I can shift the narrative, I can sometimes override inertia.”
It doesn’t capture the power of whatever it was in the original thought that teleported me to the state I’m in now. I guess it doesn’t have to—it captures it well enough for me to remember how it happened. I’m grateful for it.
The voice isn’t tiny; it just exists. The kingdom isn’t real, but my experiences are.
It’s 4:32p. Now it’s 4:33.
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