Antediluvian Man

I’ve been separated for a few months now.

Some days are okay.

Some days are even pretty good.

And then there are days like today.

Today is hard.

I’m sad. I’m tired. I’m low on motivation. I don’t really feel like doing much of anything. And to make things even more fun, I’ve managed to get physically sick with one of those early-fall colds.

The ups and downs are exhausting.

One day I can feel like I’m starting to find my footing. I can get things done, spend time with my family, laugh a little, and think, Maybe I’m going to be okay.

Then another day comes along and I miss my old life.

I miss my family.

I miss the feeling of knowing what tomorrow was supposed to look like.

And sometimes, for no obvious reason, the sadness just shows up.

Today it showed up.

There Is Something About Fall

There is another piece of this that has been on my mind.

When I was a kid, I seemed to get sick every fall.

Years later, through therapy, I made a connection I hadn’t understood before.

When I was young, someone close to me died. I was told enough about what happened for my young mind to associate the illness with something frightening and final.

I didn’t understand it at the time. I was a kid.

But somewhere along the way, my brain seemed to connect fall, sickness, and loss.

Once I made that connection in therapy, something changed.

I stopped getting sick every fall.

For decades.

And now here I am, more than thirty years later, separated from my family life, living in a different home, dealing with sadness and uncertainty — and I’m sick again as fall arrives.

I don’t know exactly what to make of that.

Maybe it’s just a cold.

Probably, at least in part, it is.

I’m not going to pretend I understand the relationship between my mind and my body well enough to explain why I’m sick today.

But I do know that our past can stay with us in ways we don’t always recognize.

And maybe that’s part of what I’m feeling right now.

Or maybe it’s just October and I caught a cold.

Either way, I’m paying attention.

So What Do I Do With Today?

I think this is where the real work begins.

Not on the good days.

The good days are easy.

The real work is figuring out what to do on the days when I don’t want to do anything.

When I’m sad.

When I’m tired.

When I miss people.

When my motivation is gone.

When I start wondering whether I’m actually making progress at all.

I think the answer is pretty simple.

I don’t have to fix my entire life today.

I don’t have to figure out the separation.

I don’t have to figure out what my relationships will look like.

I don’t have to know what the next year looks like.

I don’t even have to feel good.

I just have to take care of myself today.

Drink some water.

Eat something decent.

Rest.

Get outside if I can.

Take a shower.

Clean something.

Do one thing I’ve been putting off.

Reach out if I need someone.

And then do the next thing.

That’s it.

Not because those things will magically make the sadness disappear.

But because taking care of myself is still my responsibility — even when I don’t feel like it.

This Is For Me

I’m writing this one mostly for myself.

Maybe somebody else will read it and recognize themselves in it. If so, that’s great.

But today I need to remind myself of something.

A hard day isn’t a failed recovery.

Being sad doesn’t mean I’m going backward.

Missing my old life doesn’t mean I’ve made the wrong decisions.

Being tired doesn’t mean I’m weak.

Having no motivation today doesn’t mean I won’t have motivation tomorrow.

And getting sick doesn’t mean something is fundamentally wrong with me.

I’m three months into a completely different life.

Of course there are going to be days when it hurts.

Maybe I need to stop expecting myself to be okay all the time.

Maybe being okay isn’t the goal.

Maybe the goal is learning how to move through the days when I’m not okay without making them worse.

So today I’m going to take care of myself.

I’m going to let today be hard.

I’m not going to judge myself for having a hard day.

And then, tomorrow, I’ll try again.

One day.

One decision.

One step.

Forward.