Jeez, look at my January entry. A lot can change in three months. I committed to more work hours and extracurricular, and tried to get some skating in, too. Since spring break, I have been trying to spend Saturdays, my only free day, studying to compensate. This has me at school seven days a week for work and classes. Working a skate class or session into the week would have me doing it all.
Before returning to the ice, I was informed of my apparent lack of joy. This made for an interesting return to the ice in stiff boots on newly sharpened blades as I fought for control with my atrophied muscles. The class attendance has grown since I stopped going regularly, so these were all factors for a heart-pumping time. I'm still trying to work this in because it's exercise and self-care.
As such, it should be held at the top of my priorities but alas, it is not. I felt tired, but I thought it would resolve with some time to adjust to the new demand on my time and energy. Lack of joy didn't seem right because I didn't view how I was feeling as a lack. More like the temporary downs of what is otherwise usually enjoyable and satisfying. I didn't agree, nor did I dismiss. Not long after this came the melancholy. On a really bad night, I couldn't taste my food.
Hmm. It's funny how none of the above, in conversation or in thought-process, doesn't sound completely insane until now as I read it on my screen. Internal thoughts are just that until they are recorded, then they become admissions and mea culpas.
For the first time this semester, I missed a lab class trying to experiment with myself. I managed to totally reorganize my priorities for the evening. It demonstrates the magnitude of influence over the mind brought about by changes in chemistry.