The lure of early mornings

I used to label myself a night owl, as in I loved being awake late at night and couldn’t function in the morning. Now I wonder if maybe I just hated school and would rather be up all night online.

Nevertheless changing my sleeping habits was quite a traumatic undertaking. When I was 20 I spent a summer trying to make my bedtime reasonable and my waking up time earlier than 10am. It was hard but I succeeded. Gradually, over years, my waking up time has eroded (whilst still getting my 8 hours) further and further back until now I am getting up (on a good day) at 7am.

But I want it to be earlier! There’s something about early mornings… the peace and quiet, the promise of early productivity and later rest, the optimism that comes with wanting to do something difficult and thinking you really can succeed. I would love to get up early, do some blogging, get some drawing practice in, do a bit of cleaning. All these things I push back and back in my working day. Maybe when my schedule is busier I would have to do my yoga or my mindfulness practice early. That appeals too.

As it is for any depressed person, mornings have been the worst for me. Most mornings I would wake up with that heavy, debilitating sadness on my chest. The weight that made me realise that my day carried the promise of being 3000% harder than it should be and 6000% more terrible. I spent most days undoing the terribleness of the mornings, only to wake to another horrific morning feeling.

I’m going to take mornings back from my depression.

So this week I’m tracking how I’m spending my hours and I’m going to ease into early mornings gently. It’s something I can get excited about. And I love those things.

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