I Don't Do Disappointment Well

Today was a drab kind of day with a cloudy disposition, both external weather and internal emotions. So you take it in stride and try to divert your attentions with writing or reading or napping, as the case may be when you are not yet back on top of your game. It is extremely difficult to dump the expectations that one has, however, just because you are getting over a touch of the flu.

There are things that go on; things that happen; things that must be done. Of course, I realize the world won't stop turning just because they go on without me, happen in spite of my obvious absence, or don't get done until another time. I'm not talking making the bed or doing the dishes - self-expectations run deeper than that - it's about what you do and how it affects other. I end up feeling bad about being ill. It's such a waste of time, lying around, moving almost in slow motion, watching what you eat and making sure you eat so you can regain your strength and get back to the grind. In the meantime, I disappoint myself because of all the what-ifs and should-haves and know that somewhere deep inside is that person I want to be again - healthy, there for everyone, doing all that I can to make things go right. Or, at least that's how it feels today.

I don't do disappointment well and it is hard to console one's self when the comfort food no longer comforts.