Endure
2025-12-28
I couldn't get any writing in yesterday because I spent the whole day asleep. I woke up in the morning, did my usual routine, and even after some caffeine, my body still urged me to go back to bed. I usually don't like going back to bed in the mornings, but there are many of them where I'm too tired to start my day, so I oblige anyway. When I went back to bed yesterday morning, I slept from about 9 AM to 4 PM. This isn't a strange occurrence either. Usually after about 3-4 weeks or so, there's just a day that comes by where I have to sleep the whole day. It's something that I'm unfortunately used to.
I already know that this is because my quality of sleep is very poor. I still have my CPAP next to my bed, but haven't had a single successful night with it in years. I know that the only thing that's going to fix my sleep is losing a substantial amount of weight, even though it's harder to lose the weight because my sleep quality is so poor. It's just one of many Catch-22 situations with my health. Still, I just have to keep going. There's not much else I can do. I don't want to rot, so I'll have to contend with my ailments as best as I can.
Even though there's not much that I can handle during the day, I still try to achieve what I can. Lately, my word count has exceeded 1,000 words per day on many days. That's something I'm quite proud of. For a long time now, my word count has been around 5,000 words per week. If I keep my pace up, I'll be on track to reach about 7,000 words per week soon, which is a level of progress that feels monumental compared to when I first started. The other thing that I'm proud of is my consistency. I show up to the page every day and always write something new. This has been a big step in fostering my discipline for the craft, and it's something that I hope to keep with me for the rest of my life.
This practice has been an immense help for me. I've learned a lot about not just cultivating discipline, but also how to refine my voice and make first drafts better. I feel that with engaging in this practice, I have better instincts. More than that, I try to keep writing, regardless of any urges to stop. What I've found is that it's important to keep the flow pushing because even if the words themselves aren't to my standards, I can always revise them later.
You can't mold if there's no clay.
Earlier this morning, I helped a friend load a washing machine in their truck. Even though I had a good time with them and got a free lunch for it, my routine got thrown off a bit and so I'm sitting here writing today's entry later than I like to. Typically, I try to write my Cogito entries in the morning as I'm most fresh, but instead I'm writing today's in the afternoon. The afternoon slump is real and typically I try to not do a whole lot then if I can help it. I usually try to meditate and work out. I try to write in the mornings and evenings and at nighttime. I still intend on keeping that same flow today, but I'm just a bit behind.
My days are generally low-intensity. Everything I do in my day is dictated by me. All of the motivation has to come from me, and there are lots of times where I can be too tired to do things. But what I've found is that over time, I can stack little habits onto each other and build my life around them. I wish that I had the same maturity when I was younger. Back then, I put all of my time and energy towards so many things. I worked a lot. I went out a lot. It was a good life, but there were also a lot of self-care items that I consistently neglected.
Today, I try my best to stay clean and tidy. I do what I can to take care of myself. Even though I feel a lot more fragile than I used to, I think that this has come to help me with the basics. I feel now more than ever the importance of taking care of myself. When I think of managing my life, I try to approach it with an almost monastic set of principles. Strong routines, less indulgence, more quiet time. I try my best to center myself and be comfortable in my own skin, even though I've tried escaping it for so long.
What I attributed as self-exploration in my early twenties was actually a prolonged period of self-avoidance. I hustled and bustled every day, did all kinds of drugs, felt all kinds of things. It was all in the name of trying to forget that I was inside of my own head, viscerally experiencing reality unfold every single day. I held so much of that inside of me. My sins burned the pavement as I refused to look in the rearview mirror. I didn't want to face them with my fellow man.
These days, I don't want to escape anymore.
I want to endure.