Stress

I’ve reached breaking point. This has been an insane year. Most years are, I should be used to this now. There’s been so many ups and downs that I don’t even know what the average has been. I’m currently sitting here shivering from a combination of stress and fatigue. Writing helps a bit.

I’m a workaholic with a procrastination problem. It’s usually a pretty good combination, but sometimes it spirals out of control and that’s not fun. It becomes paralysing. You can’t get any work done because you’re so busy stressing over the work you have to do.

The best solution is to get out of home. To go somewhere and sit and work there. Fewer distractions. I honestly do my best work at the pub over a pint of cider. Sadly, none of my local pubs offer wifi. This means that anything that involves research will have to be done at home or at my local coffee place. I spend hours there every day.

It might be a result of having studied for so long, but I find that I need to implement stricter boundaries between work, study, and free time. Right now, everything’s just a stressful mess.

One exam left, the day after tomorrow. Aka Thursday. That’s also when I fly to Wellington.¬†Compete on the weekend. Back to Brisbane on the Monday. Interning on Tuesday. Maybe work on Wednesday. Have something on the Thursday, maybe that’s when I intern. Work on Friday, take a late flight to Melbourne. Compete. Fly back. Then we’re back to a normal schedule.

My pulse hasn’t calmed down for two days. I get stuck just looking into the distance like a deer in headlights.. I often can’t be bothered doing things like cooking or putting on makeup. I’m just too tired. I recently bought more clothes so that I wouldn’t have to do laundry.

 

I had a burnout when I was 19 and if it hadn’t been because I’m literally two weeks away from being able to rest, I would have pulled the emergency break. This feels way too familiar.

I’m the kind of person who has the tendency to put my heart and soul into everything I do. The problem is that there’s only so much you can put in before you run short on resources. I’ve spread myself too thin lately. When I can’t perform at my maximum, one out of two things happen. I either get angry, or I enter a weird stage of apathy.

I would consider scheduling time with a psychologist to get some advice on coping mechanisms for stress, but I don’t even have time for such an appointment. I’m so tired. I’m so tired of commuting because getting anywhere takes forever and theres only so much work you can get done.
I dream of having an office. One that’s just mine. Maybe I’ll share it with one other person. But man, I’d give a lot for an office. None of those “open spaces”. Just a work space that’s all mine.

I’d kill to wake up well rested. For a night of solid sleep instead of this series of naps I’ve gotten used to. Sleep, wake up from nightmare, panic about how little sleep you’ll have to work on. Sleep. Repeat. Alarm rings. Too exhausted to get out of bed. Spend two hours like a zombie, not asleep, not awake. Just looking at the wall trying to get an extra 15 minutes of sleep or so. Alarm rings again, for the 9th time. Read the news, watch a video to wake up. Force yourself to get dressed. Forget makeup. Stumble out to the coffee place, laptop under the arm. Grunt an order, smile to seem less rude. Sit down. Try to listen to a lecture while trying to research something else. Try writing a blog post. Save everything as drafts that won’t be published.

That’s what all my work is like. That’s what it feels like. Like I’m writing drafts that will never be published. I do work but I’m not able to bring it up to a level of quality where I can send it without feeling ashamed. So I don’t send it. Just save it as a draft. Maybe.

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