There are times where my brain is moving so fast that I don’t think it’s possible for me to record it in any way. I certainly can’t type that fast, though it is faster than my writing. I like my handwriting, and I like my ability to change it drastically with little effort but after a while my hand will cramp and I can’t do it anymore. The next logical thing would be to use voice or video. I have recorded myself on video having therapy breakthroughs and moments of probing self-reflection, but that’s not always practical. Probably the best choice is to use voice notes on my phone as it’s with me 97% of the time except when I’m roaming around the office during workday hours. When I have revelations or thoughts about other things I’d like/need to do I’m usually in my office anyway.
I really need to have systems set up for myself to help with the day to day things that take up whatever is left of my Vyvanse energy and focus by the time 5:00pm hits. I think the ability to use some of that energy at the end of the day could really help me achieve my goals this winter.
I also need to face the fact that I need to get help with this food/sugar/med come down eating situation. It’s leading me to physically binge on sugar crap late at night, or sometimes even in the middle of the night while I’m asleep. I’ve woken up to milk spilling in my lap from a cup I’m holding to dunk cookies to soupy ice cream in a container sitting on my chest under a blanket, spoon upright. It’s disheartening to wake up and see wrappers and food garbage all over that wasn’t there when I went to bed. My sleep has been all fucked up lately too. I haven’t slept in the hammock much, I think only once, since I bought the couch. It is really comfortable, but I get better sleep in the hammock.
The bottom line my therapist and I came to was this:
Why am I actively denying “kid-me” what he needs?
All of the self care things we learned, or should have learned, to do. The basics. Learning how to feel in your body and listening to what it’s telling you as feedback to your actions. Like a lot of people, I didn’t necessarily get appropriate guidance from adults in my life. And let’s not mince words, our parents didn’t give us what we needed, but they didn’t exactly get what they needed either, did they?
I’ve scored the killer booth at my favorite pub and I’m all set up to write. I’ve had a hot buttered rum, a warm baguette with some butter and Himalayan pink salt, I’ve got lo-fi chill beats in my ears with my rocketbook out beside my laptop and now all I want to do is leave.