That was not quite the spectacular new beginning I was hoping for. Stuff like last night is why I suspect I may have an undiagnosed bipolar disorder as well as depression and some social anxiety. I was temporarily euphoric, filled with energy and ready to take on the world. Despite not being tired, I went to bed around 1:30 or 2. When I woke up at 7, I was still feeling very tired, and I went back to sleep, hoping to grab an hour or two. I got up shortly before 1 instead. “Well, okay, not quite the plan but still….” and I got up and did some of the stuff I wanted to get done today and sat down briefly, planning my next steps.
a great languor came over me; I felt exhausted, and wanted nothing more than to crawl back in bed. Last night, even as I wrote the entry, I worried that this would happen, but hoped it wouldn’t. I fought it, but I knew it was a losing battle. I remembered that a show I enjoy premiered for the season last night and would be online. I lay down on the couch and watched it on my laptop, and when it was over, I still didn’t want to do anything. (The episode was very good, though!)
But I got up and did some more stuff that needed to be done.
It may have been less a big bang and more a sad whimper, but the fresh start happened, and that’s the important part. There’s a motivational thing I’ve seen shared by skaters and runners I know that says “it doesn’t matter how slow you go as long as you don’t stop” or something like that. I may not have exploded out of the gate, but I didn’t stop, and that’s something.