After a lifetime of beating myself up for not being like everyone else, I am actively working on changing the stories I tell myself.
As I start this blog post, it is 12:58 p.m. I have not eaten breakfast though I’ve been awake since 8 a.m. I put Hudson’s harness on him two hours ago but we have yet to take a walk. The items on my to-do list today are simple yet getting started on them feels impossible. It sounds ridiculous but sometimes I get physically stuck. I can’t move my body to complete my daily tasks no matter how hard I try.
Unloading the dishwasher or simply walking down the stairs to move my clothes to the dryer can take hours. On days like these, I fight the voices in my head that tell me that I’m a failure. The voices that ask how it is that a 33-year-old woman can’t get herself to do these simple things. The voices that compare my productively to that of a “normal” functioning adult.