I have just woken up. It is Saturday morning. I should feel rested, energised, happy to be able to start into the weekend in whatever way pleases me. Instead I feel lethargic. What is the point in getting up?
I think of how I envisioned my weekend all throughout this week. I could see myself sitting at the dining table, drinking my favourite darjeeling tea and writing. Now that the weekend is here, the dream seems gone. It disappeared in this fog that suddenly seems to permeate everything surrounding me. I have no energy and cannot even imagine completing one of the tasks from my to-do list.
As the day unfolds, the fog starts to slowly disappear. Especially after a healthy and filling breakfast and a cup of tea.
Who says that the day of the week dictates my mood? I believe that if I am open to it, experiencing feelings of sadness on the days “I should not” can teach me to be better in tune with myself, relying and trusting my own emotions instead of being pressured and ruled by external conditions. I have read that accepting feelings and emotions, allowing them to surface, actually helps heal the wounds that brought them up in the first place.