This morning I managed to give myself a migraine.
At first I thought my eyes were just a little blurry from sleep. I was reading the news online, but there was something wrong with the text. Soon a ‘crack’ appeared to my left, hovering in space and moving gradually forward, like a kaleidoscopic worm made of bees. The proper name for this is an ‘aura‘, which gives entirely the wrong impression. It should be called ‘a visual representation of the pain you are about to experience’, or ‘doom vision’; something like that.
Fortunately I knew exactly what it was, and why I was experiencing it. The past month or so I’ve been struggling with the self-imposed pressures of being a freelance writer. I made myself sick within a couple of weeks through the simple thought that every moment I wasn’t writing was a moment wasted.
Eventually I realised what was going on and recalibrated my sense of urgency. I don’t after all, have to write an article every 1.5 days. To do so is neither feasible nor desirable. Even 1 per week would be a vast improvement on my previous output, and a sustainable increase in my freelance career.
But last week the situation changed again, as my wife was offered a day per week of work at her old job. I ended up looking after our son for the day and a half that she was busy, thus cementing my role as part-time stay-at-home dad.
It turns out that looking after an eighteen month old is one of the most exhausting things I have ever experienced in my life. Without sounding like it ought to, being alone in the house with my son for so long left me mentally exhausted. I don’t know how my wife managed to do it while I was working, though I now understand why I typically had to pick her up off the floor by the end of each day.
So with my wife out of the house for one or so days this week, I added another ingredient to the strange part-time stew I’m cooking. I’m now trying to balance being a part-time freelance writer, a part-time PhD student, and a part-time stay-at-home dad. Thus far they add up to more than a full-time load hence my lack of activity on the writing and the PhD front this past week, hence my all-consuming sense of urgency to nonetheless get ‘something’ done, hence my fruitless staring at the computer screen first-thing this morning, and hence, I believe, the premonition of cranial catastrophe that followed.
Fortunately, knowing the cause meant I could immediately drink some water, go lie down, and tell myself reassuring things like that it doesn’t actually matter whether or not I have an article published this week, that looking after our son is a far greater challenge and will take some getting used to, and that these are still early days, and we have much to learn toward building a life that is as good as we would like it to be.