Mood music for this post: “So Tired,” by The Beatles:
I don’t particularly enjoy lying around. To be idle is to not be living.
Even back when I was holing myself up in a dark room or dragging my mentally exhausted ass to the couch for hours at a time, I didn’t really like it. But back then I was pinned to the wall by depression and his partners in crime: fear and anxiety. I didn’t have much of a choice, because those punks were stronger than me.
The fear and anxiety went away a long time ago, so now I really despise being idle. But that’s what I did this morning. I told my editor I was down for the count, took the kids to school, then came back here and collapsed for three hours. I think I even plunged into some REM sleep, which is almost unheard of for me in daylight.
But I needed to force myself down. The migraine I wrote about yesterday was likely the body crying for help because I’ve been pushing it hard in recent weeks.
I’m plowing through a lot of write-ups for CSO because there’s so much good material to work with of late. It’s Lent, so I’m doing a lot of extra activity at Church, including Tuesday nights helping out with the RCIA group. I’ve started my security book project, even though no publishing deal is on the table yet. I’m making plans for another trip to California, and I went into Cambridge with migraine aftershocks rattling around in my skull so I could give a keynote talk on social networking security threats at MIT. That was a ton of fun, by the way. Talks always go well when you have a lively, curious audience to work with.
That’s a lot, but I love it all too much to put something down.
When you’ve been mentally and spiritually dead and you’re lucky enough to come back to life, you develop a habit of cramming as much life as possible into every day. The things that were once cause for fear become cherished activities.
The bright side of exhaustion is that when I’m stuck on the couch I can think about how life used to be and truly appreciate where I’m at. And the exhaustion itself is kind of nice. Because it comes from being able to do a lot of cool things.
It’s a more satisfying form of fatigue.
That said, I’ll be happy when my energy comes back.
Maybe a switch in mood music will help. And if it doesn’t restore some energy, I can at least enjoy the chuckle that always comes from hearing Vince Neil sing live: