When I came home from the hospital in August, I was losing my mind while trying to figure out how to live comfortably while being home full-time. My mind was so scrambled. These days, I am so limited by mental fatigue that it can be hard to easily feel happy. I was slipping into a brutal depression as I struggled with finding my footing.
Usually I'm the type of person that likes to be incredibly regimented. Maintaining a schedule and feeling collected helps me feel worthwhile, and gives purpose to every hour of the day.
During nursing school in 2012 I would strictly abide by a schedule that had a set time for everything. I wrote in every single thing I did, from class times and gym sessions, to bathroom breaks.
When I met my boyfriend Nathan back then, he was surprised when 9pm came and I would say, "I'm sorry but you have to leave now. It's bedtime. Goodnight!" I would send him home because lights were out by 9:30pm, so I could be well-rested and early for school the next day. Class started at 7:30am, but I considered myself late if I arrived a moment past 7:00am. This is what I affectionately coined "suffering from chronic punctuality".