There was so much I was supposed to get done in June. I was supposed to finally balance my day job with everything else that I do. I was supposed to complete the editing of a new novel. I was supposed to make those crucial sales contacts. I was supposed to hang out with my friends. I was supposed to crack the mysteries of book marketing. I was supposed to start eating healthier. I was supposed to stop feeling so withdrawn. I was supposed to write all of the blogs. I was supposed to get ahead on the crafting. I was supposed to.
As I look back on the entirety of last month, I realize that I didn’t do a damn thing that I intended. Oh sure I could come up with some excuses. It was my birthday month, I got sick, my husband got sick, the day job wouldn’t let go of me, etc. While all of those things are true, there has also been an underlying blah-ness. I haven’t wanted to do anything. I haven’t wanted to socialize. I haven’t wanted to get myself together.
The only thing I can contribute that lack of want to is just sheer burn out. And it honestly doesn’t surprise me. I keep my plate extremely full on purpose (boredom is the WORST), but that doesn’t stop the universe from forcing me to slow down when I need it most.
You see, I was always taught that if I wanted to get anywhere or accomplish anything of worth, then I had better work my ass off for it. And I do. The problem with that is while I am busy holding myself to impossible standards and trying to get my dreams off the ground, I forget to take care of myself. Things get overdone and in the end, I am exhausted and don’t want to do anything else, including all of the things I need to do to be a healthy, happy human.
The kicker? Even when I hit this point of no more, there’s a HUGE amount of guilt that goes along with it. Why aren’t I getting things done? Why am I being such a slug? What is wrong with me? That guilt makes me even less keen to do anything.
And so the spiral continues ever downward. It’s an easy trap to get entangled in and one that is very difficult to escape.
So. July. A new month. A new set of expectations. Do I allow myself to wallow in the pit I’ve gotten myself into? Or do I make myself take care of me by doing the things that a happy, balanced human does?
There are 31 days to figure it out.
How do you handle burn out or summer lethargy?