Why I Skipped One Week in December

When I started this blog, my goal was to post twice per week, every week. This was something I was able to do without fail for months until the week of December 7, 2020.

It would be easier to say something huge and dramatic happened which prevented me from creating posts for that week, but the truth is much more mundane.

The weeks leading up to the seventh of December were incredibly hectic at work. At every turn, someone seemed to need something ASAP or required me to meet a last-minute deadline—deadlines that were only last minute because of a lack of planning on someone else’s part which of course negatively affected me. All in all, I felt completely overwhelmed and trapped and more than a little bit anxious. In fact, I was taking my antianxiety medication three to four times per week which is out of the ordinary even though it is prescribed for use “as needed.” I was so stressed and panicked, I needed to be calmed down several evenings after work in order to be able to sleep. Otherwise, I would be lying in bed wide awake and panicking until sunrise.

I felt guilty for not writing.

I felt guilty for feeling guilty about not writing.

So I began to berate myself for being overwhelmed at work and for not keeping up with my goal of two posts per week.

This, obviously, solved nothing and only exacerbated my anxiety. It was part of a downward spiral that I couldn’t fully get control of, even though I could see it happening.

Eventually by Friday, December 11, 2020, I was able to right the ship. I would be on staycation after that day and whatever is done, is done, and the rest would simply have to wait. Per my work’s email autoresponder, I am currently unavailable.  

I realized I just had to let it go.

It was difficult and nearly impossible for me to do, but I was able to finally let myself relax and stop beating myself up about what I insisted were failures. Literally no one else ever mentioned or thought I was a failure. It was only my mind being cruel to me because of the lies depression tells.

I wasn’t able to stop the anxiety spiral, but I was able to be cognizant of it, which is forward progress. There was a time when I wouldn’t even notice I was in a spiral, and months would go by with me feeling miserable every day.

Small progress is progress, so I’ll take this as a win.

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