My working week started how my weekend ended – in a haze of nothingness and brain fog. I’ve struggled all this last week with concentration – even with basic tasks such as opening my emails and within a matter of seconds forgetting who I was emailing and what on earth for. Racking my brains (or lack thereof) to try and remember what I was supposed to be doing at any given time.
To say it’s been a difficult week is an understatement. It’s been frustrating, in the sense that generally I like to be productive. I guess I feel a sort of sense of achievement for having been productive and having tangible outputs. Almost pride like – yes there are struggles, but on the whole I am functional and will not be typecast under a narrow minded and archaic definition.
Still, it frustrates me nonetheless. I like to do. I don’t like to sit still – body or mind. And the latter is probably where I don’t help myself or give myself enough of a break.
But this week, I’m almost embraced the haziness and concentration struggles. I’ve been patient and gentle with myself. Instead of berating myself for not remember what I was doing, or meant to be doing, I’ve allowed myself to go through the motions – and emotions – to recognise it for what it is. A moment. An insignificant moment in my life. Literally and metaphorically. It doesn’t really matter if I forget things, or have moments (or weeks) of fogginess, because those moments do pass. They are not defining.
Be kind to yourself, you’re doing the best you can.