Yesterday I was feeling completely unmotivated and unhappy for a few hours. At some point I realized that I’d feel way better if I went outside and sought sunlight, but I could not bring myself to do it. I don’t feel like it, it’s not going to help, I’m perfectly fine being cooped up inside for hours. I feel this way a lot around tasks that are synonymous with being a competent adult — exercising, eating regularly, making payments, cooking for myself, checking things off my to-do list, and so on.
The minute I have to fend for myself by walking outside and exercising regularly, I think to myself that I’d rather let my muscles wither and die than strengthen them. Or I’d rather eat complete junk or see if I can get away with fasting rather than throwing some oil onto the pan, cracking a few eggs, and adding a fuck load of spinach. My special skill is that I can turn a twenty minute task into a looming, impossible undertaking that will take hours, which I could never subject myself to doing. And left unchecked, I start to believe that I can’t do anything adult-related at all.
Realistically, exercising for twenty minutes or responding to an email or literally anything I complain about is not that bad. And it’s not good for my soul to be this undisciplined. I certainly wouldn’t want my future kids to feel defeated by the prospect of going grocery shopping or taking care of themselves. Despite my attempts to believe otherwise, I have what it takes to go outside for ten minutes or what it takes to book a flight. Even if I really don’t want to.
Forgot nectarines were a thing. Was wondering why the photo looked like apples were mixed with peaches. My grocery shopping is limited to kale I can just wash and eat.
This is painfully relatable.