I seem to spend half my life trying to keep up with the targets I set for myself and then being surprised when I don’t achieve them. You’d think that by now I would have learned that setting targets isn’t the way for me to go.
I’m a perfectionist and I demand far more perfection from myself than I do from other people. If you’re aiming for the stars when you’re at the bottom of the ocean you’ve not got a cat in hell chance of doing it. Sometimes I do of course but that’s usually stuff that’s not directly related to me.
My time management, which wasn’t very good to begin with, has gone downhill. Part of this is anxiety and compulsively checking switches and locks over and over and over again. My hands is glued to the door handle somedays.
Part of the downhillness of my time management is Ogden Nash. For those of you who don’t know, Ogden Nash is the best dog in the whole universe; he is beautiful, handsome, clever, funny and I always want one more minute with him and the cats. It’s hard to be on time for anything when you’re kissing four animals as you go even before you start on the checking and checking and checking.
People annoy me. I can’t count how many people gave me instructions about my new washing machine this week because I said it was the first automatic washing machine I’d had in 23 years. THEY HAVEN’T CHANGED IN ALL THAT TIME PEOPLE. I have spent the last week smiling through gritted teeth and trying not to punch people in the face.
One of the reasons I got so fed up with this “advice” was the way that people seemed to assume it was beyond my ability to work a washing machine. That some how my disability would prevent me from reading a leaflet and turning switches. I have bipolar disorder which does not affect my reading and it’s the easiest machine in the world to use. This whole attitude made me feel as though my ability to do anything was being removed from me and I was have dis-ability forced upon me.
One of the things is this list of a lot of things relates to the target I mentioned up there ⇑ somewhere. I was doing a series of posts about my Word of the Year (which is AWARE) and I’ve become acutely aware that doing a blog post every week is beyond me and not because I have little to say about it or that I’m incompetent.
Part of it is time management and the largest part of it is that there will always be me looking after me so that I come first and stay as stable as I can within the huge instability that bipolar disorder brings to my life.
I’m hoping I’m not going to get patted on the head or get a lot of head tilting (believe me I know you’re doing it even if you just tweet to me) when I make this post live and the next paragraph tells you why.
I’m not asking for help. I’m not asking for suggestions of how to manage my time better. I’m not asking for advice on how to better control OCD. I’m not looking for cute words about how wonderful my dog and cats are because I know this already.
I’m telling you that today is Time To Talk day but lets change that to Time To Listen. Don’t assume you’re making my day by taking time out of your precious life to say hello, say hello and then listen to what I have to say.