By Sarah Stibb
“Beep. Beep. Beep.” It’s 10 a.m., and I know I have to get up. I have to do something with myself today.
Today is the day I actually clean like I said I would. I will go shopping for groceries and come home feeling accomplished. Or I could roll over and sleep like everything is OK. The little voice says to just sleep my day away and be content.
It’s 10:30 am. now, and by this time my housemates have gone to work and are almost halfway through their days. They will come home to find me hauled up in my room with my laptop “looking for perspective jobs.” The dirty dishes are in the sink, and once again I’ve forgotten to get my washing out of the washing machine to dry, and it’s now 5 p.m. The sun has gone. I can feel them judging me. I’m at home all day. How hard is it to do the simplest of things?
But I’m not at home. Instead I’m fighting a war inside my mind. I’m seeking motivation through the dark abyss and thorny bushes and the voice that keeps lashing out at me. “You’re not good enough.” “You wont be able to apply for this job. You can’t do it. You’ll make a fool of yourself.” But I want a job. I enjoy working and miss it. Keeping busy and keeping the voices less busy.
It’s been four months. Four months of 10 a.m.s and a constant battle of disappointment and depression. I’m not at home. Instead I’m seeking the strength to be myself without the voices and fear. I’m trying to find the balance, a place to thrive and carry on.
“Beep. Beep. Beep.” It’s 10 a.m.