Finding the Balance Between Busyness and Happiness

Do you have a habit of staying unimaginably busy? I do. I do this thing when I’ve spent any amount of time doing nothing (watching TV, relaxing) where I feel guilty for not being productive. I tell myself could have been writing or doing homework (I’m working towards my Bachelor’s in Journalism) and I make myself feel bad about it. My doctor recently asked me if I hallucinate (I have paranoid schizophrenia) when I’m doing something I like like running or reading, and I realized that I don’t really do much of what I like anymore, so I couldn’t answer his question. I told him that I’m either working, doing. homework, or sleeping. He said that I really need to try to give myself at least one hour a day of something I enjoy, to see if this helps me unwind enough so that the stress of my life is not affecting my brain disorder. I really have been trying since then (hence my new goal of posting to this blog more often). Do you feel guilty about those moments of self care, or do you practice self care at all?

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Wondering What Could Have Been

I won’t be able to sleep. I know this even before I lie down. It’s 12 and I didn’t wake up until 8 and I just finished the largest sized cup of iced coffee you can get from Starbucks. The new Starbucks in town is nice, but busy. It’s the first trendy thing that has popped up here. Give me a Trader Joe’s, and I would have died and gone to heaven.

I open my eyes every so often to look at my phone. It’s on vibrate so I’ll know if a message comes in, but this is not enough to stop me from doing so. I wait, just like I do every other day, from a text from him. Which doesn’t make any sense. The last time I heard from him, he was “getting married in a few months.” It’s been more than a few months, whatever a few means. He has a wife, a house, money in the bank, and sperm that’s ready to make life. Why would he text me? He wouldn’t, but that’s not enough to stop me from wondering if he will. Maybe he’ll realize he loves me too much to get married and invite me to San Diego, like on that one day we spent together. My laugh is sinister in the peaceful confines of my bedroom. Yeah, right.

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This is not a Starbucks by Sarah Fader

When Sarah called me on Friday to tell me this story I could not let it die between us. Too much good stuff in real life to write about. She told me she thanked the woman for giving her material for a blog post. -Allie

I don’t even know what just happened to me. I dropped the kids off with their dad and I decided to go into the beauty supply store that is down the street from his house to buy some three dollar mascara.

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