So I promised I would write more about the yoga thing. This is late, but to be fair, I haven’t really done much more of it. There’s a reason, though. I strained a muscle in my forearm doing something idiotic and my back has been persnickety over the last week and a half, so yoga got put on hold. Things are better, however, and I should be getting back to yoga tomorrow evening.
Mentally, I’ve had a rough time here and there. I like to think that I’ve come a long way, and that things really are better, but then I get really low and start isolating, and I wonder whether I’ve come that far at all. I’m getting anxious about leaving the house again, but that could very well be apprehension about the delta variant that’s spreading fast. While I am vaccinated, I am acting out of a breathtaking abundance of caution. I’m high-risk three different ways, and my lungs are shot thanks to an 18-year-long pack-a-day habit. I am unconvinced I would have a high chance of survival should I test positive. I know it’s situational, but it still feels very much like the near-agoraphobia I suffered several years ago. I really, really don’t want to be terrified of walking out the door to the point of panic attacks again.
But while I wouldn’t say that things are good, my mood is light this morning and I am enjoying a cup of coffee as the day begins. My mental health is almost always better in the mornings than it is later in the evening, and I am starting to really appreciate being up around sunrise. We don’t have an east-facing window in our apartment, but I am next to the patio door, so there is a lot of light that gradually begins to stream through the blinds. This peaceful time has also become a ritual for our cat, who has taken to climbing on my desk and demanding pets and belly rubs. Her purrs are loud and intense and they can easily be felt through the desk. They are healing, and they make this morning respite all that much sweeter.