The day I never want to repeat.Monday Hustle's Diary
Last Thursday was, without a doubt, the worst day of the hustle so far.
There was no lead up. No direct cause. No one attributable event. But I kid you not. I haven’t felt as low as I did that day for a very long time.
My alarm started blaring at 6.40am. On a normal day, I would heave myself out of bed (somewhat reluctantly due to cold + general morning-ness) and before I had a chance to think, I’d get into some exercise, shower, eat some breakfast and be ready to start the day before 9am.
But Thursday was different. Although of course there have been times where I’ve slept in, felt apprehensive about the day and generally been a bit lower than usual, this was next level.
I had absolutely zero motivation. And when I say zero motivation, I mean that there was no question, no second thought, no inner voice even attempting to whisper a reason for me to not turn my alarm off (without hitting snooze) and go back to sleep.
On the one hand, I feel pretty lucky that that was the first time that feeling had occurred. On the other hand, the part that happened next was pretty out of character.
I woke up again at 9.34am. Nine thirty-four. Nearly three hours later.
I was appalled. And I felt like absolute shit.
I don’t mean I felt like shit as in I felt sick; I mean I felt like shit as if I was actually shit.
I felt worthless. I felt ugly. I felt undeserving. I felt like a failure. I felt so irrationally low that at that time, my only option was to cry and go back to sleep because the reality of having to face that day was all too much.
For the first time, I didn’t care that I was wasting time. I didn’t care what opportunities I might miss out on. I didn’t care about any responsibilities. All I cared about was getting myself back into a state of unconsciousness as soon as humanly possible in order to escape those feelings.
I think I hit rock bottom.
About an hour later, I woke up again. I still felt like shit. But I forced myself to get up.
I existed for the rest of the day in a state of unrest. Key word – existed. Despite not feeling like it, I forced myself to exercise. I forced myself to eat. I forced myself to put on normal clothes and to leave the house.
I felt like I might burst into tears for no apparent reason throughout the entire day. I felt directionless. I felt unworthy. I felt like I had completely lost myself in this low. And in some ways, it felt good to feel so low. It felt comfortable. It felt like that feeling was there to stay. It felt like I may as well get used to it.
I allowed myself to feel like shit on Thursday, because there really was no other option. I went through the motions and tried to act normal and tried to remain my upbeat energetic self when I was with company, but I felt like I was worlds away. I was withdrawn, stuck in my own head, living a surface level lie. I knew I had no option that day but to ride the feeling all the way out to the other side.
And in hindsight, all of that seems like a really scary thing.
I’d really like to tell you that the last few days have been better, have been easier, have been more relaxed; but in some ways, they’ve been tougher, because I’ve been actively working to try and overcome that low. It’s taking a huge amount of self awareness and self talk and self love, which is definitely not coming naturally right now. It feels like I’ve gone back about 1,7000 steps.
But all that means is that I have 17,001 steps ahead of me. And the only option is to start taking them. So here’s step one – acknowledgement.
I have always believed that crises are important in life. They exist to tell you that something isn’t working, that something isn’t right, that you need to change direction or work on a different part of yourself in order to grow and move forward.
And that’s the belief I’m holding onto.
We are all human. We all experience. We all feel. And shit isn’t always easy.