My weekend was defined by two opposing themes: on the one side, there was self doubt and overall meh-ness. On the other side, I was totally ok and enjoying every moment. So what was different? Not much, except my own attitude towards these two days.
On Friday, I had been drinking a couple of white wine spritzers with a friend (alcohol is definitely going to be another blog post) and on Saturday, I felt hungover and sluggish. I used to be able to drink a lot more so when I drink now, I’m almost always surprised at how hungover I can be. Anyway, it was a beautiful morning, the sun was shining, I was with my boyfriend (we have a – what I call – short distance relationship. Definition: Short enough so you can see each other every weekend and when it is urgent or neccessary but too long of a distance to live together) and everything was fine. Except it was not.
While having breakfast, I was already hungry for the next meal which made me incredibly anxious. I also really wanted to work out since I had been sitting most of the previous week and my body was aching. Since we slept in, the morning was already over (the boyfriend was also hungover but from a different event). We still needed to go grocery shopping. I still needed to pick up my parents from the airport some hours later. I needed to shower. I needed to do this and that and this and that. So I sat there in front of my oatmeal with an amazingly ripe mango, in the sun, utterly unhappy.
The day went on. The boy and I argued over stupig things and we only managed to do the things we absolutely had to do. We did not go to the gym (this is an important aspect because working out always helps me release some pressure and it’s therefore an important part of me taking care of myself). We went to a birthday dinner that night and had an ok enough time. When we went to bed, the boyfriend told me that the day was really shitty.
We only have two days together during the week and it felt like we wasted one.
So I made a concious effort that Sunday would be better.
It was. We slept in. We had a late breakfast. We enjoyed the sun. We worked out together. On Sunday, we did not do much but it did not bother me at all. Instead, I was present in enjoying doing nothing.
At this point, you might be wondering what all of this has to do with recovery.
My personal story: not much. The message I was trying to type out: Everything.
Being mindful, being present, sometimes deciding that things are going to be good is such an important part of getting better. I realised that it was ME who ruined Saturday. Not being hungover, not the boyfriend being hungover, not because we didn’t go to the gym but ME, ME and only ME. I was responsible for the shitty day.
I am in control of how I am feeling. I am still working very hard to learn how to get out of my head but it’s getting better. I mean, I got one our of two days right so we’re talking 50/50 here.
It’s a process.
So the next time you are having a really, really shitty day, ask yourself: Can I do something about it? Can I change my situation and my mood?
Most of the time, the answer is yes.