Resisting temptation...

I can feel it coming.Slowly, inexorably, inevitably trying to settle in the neighbourhood of my psyche. The arrival of SAD.   How do I know this?  Partly because I wanted to sleep all day today and I haven't really had that feeling so strongly for many months and also because I am having a major crisis of confidence.

Usually I have a reserve of self-belief. I do my work.  I paint my face.  I do my pottering and generally live my life without spending too much time worrying about whether I am good enough or skilled enough or even whether or not I am talking too much.  This week that confident facade began to crumble.  I felt it creeping up the other day, actually the first signs were at the weekend, when I was irritable and snappish at everything and  everyone, more precisely at Ralph.  Then I went to work and felt that my course was not very good, too sloppy and too informal - too much of me in it.

This morning I woke up, jumped out of bed as usual, showered, dressed and then debated as to how to spend the day. My first and strongest instinct was to go back to bed and not move.  I recognised that this would not be a good thing for me to do, especially since the urge to do it was so strong.  So, of course, I went shopping.  I drove to a  nearby shopping mall and spent a few hours looking at clothes I didn't need and trying on shoes I didn't want.

As I was driving home I suddenly remembered that I could have music in the car and started listening to Premal and Miten singing.  Lovely.  I remembered to notice the trees changing colour and the blue, if cold, sky.  Singing along at the top of my voice and driving in the afternoon sun was a delight and just what I needed.

Coming in the door I once again was overcome by tiredness.  Sheer exhaustion brought on by nothing more than fading daylight.  I really felt as if the call of my bed had almost a magnetic pull and it was all I could do to resist.  I thought about writing this blog entry and felt totally de-motivated.  'Who am I doing this for', I thought. 'If this is for me, then I don't have to do it, I can leave it till tomorrow'.  As all this self-defeating thinking spiralled through my head I forced myself up the stairs, resisted the pull of the bedroom and sat down at my computer to write. In the mood that I am in today I started to worry that I haven't enough to say, that what I write is stupid and a waste of  time, that it is of no importance.  I guess that's true but I made a bargain with myself to do it and having made a commitment to myself to write for at least a year has been a good motivator and a positive message to me about  keeping to my agreements.

I am frightened of this wave of sleepiness.  I've been here before.  I know how it goes and I am determined to resist this year.  I could make sleeping an Olympic sport, but all it does is feed my sense of worthlessness, so I'll pass for now.  Early nights are one thing, but making my days into nights as well is really not a good idea.

It is definitely time for me to start a project - but what?