One Day At A Time

Within moments of waking up, I knew today was going to be hard. Again.

Yesterday was hard in a different way. Already underslept, I felt so burned out I couldn't make a simple decision like where to get lunch. I had to have someone tell me where to go just to break the blank stare I'd developed. After lunch, I came back and resumed staring at the wall with no impulse to do anything. Even picking up my crochet hook or analyzing my current state felt like too much--a rarity for me.

Today my brain was in gear, but my heart labored under a leaden layer of depression. Everything I faced in the day--and thought about facing in the future--came through a lens of "How much is this going to hurt?" and "What if it never gets better?" I couldn't see anything positive about myself. All I could see was my own inability to be a good support pillar in this marriage, because as we all know, good support pillars never ever crumble. I couldn't even pick out my own earrings for today, because my earrings reflect how I feel in a day, and I couldn't feel anything. I asked Sergey to pick a pair for me today as a small gesture of defiance even if I couldn't make my own decision.

Barely able to keep my mind on anything, I brewed up a houjicha latte and flipped through my Youtube suggestions. I was looking for something to mindlessly enjoy before I started back in on studying. Y'know, hoping to get myself to cooperate on the whole "studying" plan. I came across this gem that was recently released, and not for the first time, Ben Shapiro (and now Jordan Peterson) cured my depression by being absolutely ridiculous.

I think I almost sprayed houjicha out my nose once or twice. The laughter redoubled at the top comment:

"Dr. Peterson, do you like fun?"
"What do you mean by fun?"

BUDDY. BUDDY. WE ALL THOUGHT IT, and HE didn't say it, BUT YOU WENT AND SAID IT.

Here's the truth. There's a lot going on in my life right now. Some days it's amazing, with hidden-jewel coffeeshops and deer chasing you for crackers. Some days it's the same grind to recall how you write that kanji you missed for the fifth time today. And sometimes it's that grind plus health issues or lack of sleep or relationship concerns or loneliness.

My left foot has been hurting around the big-toe joint for well over a month now. Once it became persistent enough that I realized there was actually a problem and that it was getting worse, I had a chat with ChatGPT and based on that conversation, I have been carefully taping my foot for three days now. That's three days where my foot hasn't hurt at all, in spite of several long walks. And as long as I continue taping for about four weeks, my foot will likely have enough support to heal without me having to see a doctor about it.

Why bother to bring that up? Well, because one of the aspects of growing up that I've been slow to learn is that I can find solutions to problems that affect me before they become dire. Seems obvious, but for so long I adjusted everything in my life to route around small issues until they grew into big, unavoidable issues. It has been a very long process of realizing that, yes, I can take control of the runaway train and slow it down before it wrecks because, yes, I am the on-board conductor here. And by that, I mean the adult.

While it was a boost to find a solution to that problem, others are more difficult to pin down. I have alluded to a health issue on this blog, on and off, that comes after I eat heavy meals in the evening. I can't give you a name for it because I don't know what it's called, and it comes with a mix of symptoms weird enough that it feels like I need a Dr. Gregory House to sort it. Short of getting this fictional, medical version of Sherlock Holmes to see me, after 5 1/2 years, we're poking around the US for gastroenterologists who might be willing to see me via Zoom--at least until I return to the US in December.

I feel like I'm walking a tightrope. At this point, if I eat even a riceball too late in the evening, my system clenches and freaks out. I'm torn between wanting to fight for the ability to eat whatever I damn well please whenever I damn well please and submitting and surrendering to an increasingly ascetic form of eating. Surrender might be better for me in several aspects of my life, from weight to spirituality. On the other hand, is it bad to cede this ground in an area where I find joy and enjoyment? At this point, I do not know. What I do know is that my will to fight is rapidly wearing out.

And any night where I struggle with muscle tightness, mood swing, and unreasonable panic for hours is followed by an underslept, brain-sluggish day when it's nearly impossible to keep my mind on learning and even more unlikely that I stop kicking myself for being weak long enough to rest. My mind darts between accusations that I could bull through if I really tried and horror-filled predictions that this is just how it's going to be for the rest of my life.

And I miss family and friends nearly every day. Ever since we stopped going to daily language classes, I have struggled with this sense of isolation. It's the right choice for the way we need to study, but it's difficult to be unable to see people I care about every day, and regular classmates were a good stand-in until they all went their separate ways.

And then, on this day where I can't see my way out of the depression and I'm wondering once again if I'll ever claw my way out long enough to learn to speak this language, I get this seven and a half minutes of hilarity dumped in my lap.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

I think about my tasks for the day. I dump them pick-up-stix style into ChatGPT, which spits it out into a more reasonably formatted task list for the day. I brew a low-caffeine hot beverage and take it one item at a time.

I used to be able to plan two or three days in advance, with shiny stickers marking off every completed task. Right now, it is all I can do to take it one day at a time. But maybe that's the point for now.

Give us this day our daily bread.