Why Are Thursdays So Bad?

I have always had a "crash day" during my work week, a day when I come home and can do little to nothing else. A day when I will literally cry over spilled milk. A night when I can't make simple decisions. A night when I get in a spat with my husband over ridiculously minor things. For a while, that day was Wednesday, and then it moved to Thursday, as Thursdays became the actual end of my work week. (I currently work a four-ten-ish schedule.) Thursday mornings, I found myself lacking motivation. Thursday nights I found myself walking through life like a zombie. Why? From observing myself and others, I have a few theories about why Thursdays (or whatever the crash day is) are so bad:

The end of the week is like a ticking time bomb. Whatever is on the list has to be done, and the time to do it is decreasing. This creates pressure, and pressure creates stress. Stress fills up the window of tolerance* making it hard to tolerate, well, anything.

I start to process the hard stuff. When the stress finally goes down towards the end of the week, the hard stuff fills up my window of tolerance, living me little room to well, tolerate anything else. Therefore, I melt down more easily.

I am often hungry at the beginning or end of the day. This complicates everything. I am either hanxious (hungry-anxious) or hangry (hungry-angry) (Cleveland Clinic, 2021; Folk, 2022). This makes things worse.

Thursdays (or whatever the end of the week is) are hard days. Maybe they don't have to be bad, though. Maybe if I change my self-care practices, and change my expectations, they'll be better.

I can attack the tasks that I can do earlier in the week, earlier. I can try to discharge early week stress sooner (eg through exercise, yoga, prayer, meditation, going to bed sooner, or what have you). I can ask my husband for extra tolerance and grace. (I am blessed in that my husband notices patterns and now gives me extra time and space on crash days.) I can make sure to feed myself before trying to do much of anything else. I can lower expectations and stop scheduling so many to-dos, social events, etc. on my crash days. I can put off non-urgent decisions that need to be made until later. I can give myself grace (though this last one is a hard one).

While I do often need to go to bed earlier as an act of self-care, I don't want to always end up in a puddle of tears in bed at the end of Thursday (or whatever my crash day is). I want to be functional to the extent that I can be. I want to be nice to my husband.

I am noticing my patterns. Thursdays have been bad, but they don't have to be. Here's to acting on what I know and having better, even if less expectant, ends of the work week.

*For an explanation of the window of tolerance, read "How to Help Your Clients Understand Their Window of Tolerance (National Institute for the Clinical Application of Behavioral Medicine, n.d.)."

References:

Cleveland Clinic. (2021, June 7) . Is being 'hangry' really a thing -- or just an excuse? https://health.clevelandclinic.org/is-being-hangry-really-a-thing-or-just-an-excuse

Folk, J. (2022, February 17). Anxiety symptoms when hungry. Anxiety Centre. https://www.anxietycentre.com/faq/anxiety-symptoms-when-hungry/

National Institute for the Clinical Application of Behavioral Medicine. (n.d). How to help your clients understand their window of tolerance. https://www.nicabm.com/trauma-how-to-help-your-clients-understand-their-window-of-tolerance/

LESS Scrolling (A Failed Attempt)

In my pursuit of less this year, I somewhat arbitrarily chose to try to scroll less this month. Spoiler alert: I failed. I didn’t cut down on my screen time this month. I tried. Really I did. But my scrolling and screen time actually went up, instead of down, week by week.

I noticed pretty quickly that when stress went up screen time went followed. [I think I noticed this in part due to a post by Birchwood Pie Project (2026) about how her screen time went down when she retired from work.) I know it’s not great, but it is true that sometimes social media scrolling does give dopamine hits (Sharp & Spooner, 2025). When things are crazy, it’s just nice to have something to scroll. It’s also a little more accessible to see small bits of information versus a ton of information all at once. I noticed that when I liked my books, I did scroll social media less and read more. Still, when attention span was short, social media was my go to. I told myself I was just trying to survive. And I did, sort of.

I try to fast from social media during Lent, so clearly I am going to have to figure this scrolling thing out. For now, though at least I am becoming aware of some of the contributors to scrolling (or not). I can see social media as a resource, and it has been, for example, teaching me things about running economy, running nutrition, running shoes, etc. It has also connected me to people in some fun ways, in some cases. For example, I find out about local running events on through social media. It's not really the social media that is bad, I guess. It's just the scrolling.

All in all I guess this hasn’t been a month of less, but more. At least in the more, I've been able to be more aware of my habits and patterns. Maybe overall this year needs to be out less self-condemnation and self-flagellation and more about things that actually benefit me. Hopefully less will always make room for more. In this case, the more has mostly been about awareness.

Reference:

The Birchwood Pie Project. (2026, January 2). I retired two months ago: Here's how it's going. https://birchwoodpie.blogspot.com/2026/01/i-retired-two-month-ago-heres-how-its.html

Sharpe, B. T., & Spooner, R. A. (2025). Dopamine-scrolling: a modern public health challenge requiring urgent attention. Perspectives in public health, 145(4), 190–191. https://doi.org/10.1177/17579139251331914

Grieving the (Maybe Not So Little Things) Anew

After about nine years living with focal dystonia in my right hand, you think I would have gotten used to it. In many ways, I have. I accept, or at least am used to, my hand curling. Taking medication three times a day is routine. Oversalting my food to counteract the hypotensive effects of the medication is a regular practice. I always type holding a pen and often find pens lying around the house because I forgot I was holding one in order to straighten out my hand. But then there are times like my botox injection a few weeks ago when I realize anew the relative permanency (unless God should choose to supernaturally heal me) of my condition.

I work for days, sometimes weeks, up to my botox appointment to get everything possible done so that I can rest after my injections. I learned the hard way that doing housework spreads the botox, especially cooking and cleaning that involves repetitive movement. When the botox spreads, it not only fails to treat my condition, but makes my hand weak, so weak that I can't turn the key in an ignition, unscrew the gas cap on the car, or even clip my own fingernails. No fun, so I prep. I prep and freeze food. I do chores like a crazy women. I usually rush right up to my appointment, sliding in the door just when I am due. I liken it it to the nesting pregnant women do before they give birth, only I am not giving birth. I am receiving toxins into my body to release my muscles and prevent them cramping so hard it feels like I have wires pulling my fingers back into my skin.

I experienced a few moments of mental relief after getting my botox injections this time, but when I went to schedule my next appointment, I felt grief. I grieved the fact that I will have to go through this cycle all over again. I grieved that I had to schedule this appointment around a planned visit to a friend, as that visit requires toting my luggage around, and would therefore not be appropriate after botox, when my arm was supposed to rest. I grieved that this botox treatment cycle will be my life for the rest of my life, unless God heals me.

In some respects, these are little things. Focal dystonia is not a terminal condition. It's not cancer. I shouldn't die of it. While I cannot do repetitive motions for three days after botox, I can walk. I can run. Botox doesn't make me sick or ill overall (as do chemo and other such treatments). Other than a few tiny injection pricks and ongoing muscle atrophy from the injections, my arm does not look much different. My condition is chronic, though, and that brings with it some grief. Maybe that grief is more about the little than the big things, but it's still grief, and I am still needing to work through it. Maybe this is part of my sanctification process. Maybe this is part of my journey in practicing self-acceptance and self-compassion. Whatever it is, may the Lord help me through it, because only in and through him are all things possible.

Don't Envy My Body.

I'm really tired of all the body talk, but I'm going to join the fracas for a moment since I feel I have some things to say. Those things are these: To those who envy thin bodies, I want to say "Thin people have problems, too." To those who think thin people have all the privileges, let me say, "Thin people face persecution, too." The thin ideal is not really ideal. Let me elaborate.

Appearance: Though in a smaller frame, I still feel self-conscious about how I look. I feel especially self-conscious because of comments people make such as, "Eat more." "You shouldn't run." "Life weights!" "Need some protein?" There is so much more that contributes to my appearance than food and exercise. Take my right arm, for instance. It's even skinnier than the rest of my body because of the botox treatment I receive to treat my focal dystonia. I can't control this, but I don't wish to talk to everyone about it, either.

Clothing: I don't have shapes and curves like some women, so finding clothes that fit right is a struggle. I prefer loose and billowy fashion, so this is not as big an issue for me as some others, but it still is a problem. Trying to find jeans for instance? Forget it. Most jeans are either too big or too small in certain places, often both. Designers don't cater to the typical "thin" body. I would argue that they don't cater to real bodies at all, but that's a different topic for a different day.

Dystonia: I wrote above about my atrophied right arm. Dystonia, visible or invisible, plagues my body. I have a neurological disorder and a disability, even in my thin "healthy" frame.

Energy: I don't have a lot of it. I generally try to eat plenty, but since my body doesn't have much fat stored, when I get hungry, my blood sugar drops fast. Then I get hangry, or otherwise emotionally dysregulated. It's not a good feeling.

Health: Some people tell me I look healthy because I am thin, but being thin carries with it its own inherent health problems. My body size makes me extremely sensitive to stress. More often than not, my yearly blood work shows that something is off, because my body just struggles to keep up with the pace of life. When I get sick, I can get really sick, and it can take me a long time to recover. Would these issues improve if I gained weight and my body grew bigger? Maybe. But if this is the size my body wants to be right now, forcing it to change might raise other problems.

I could probably go on and on, but I won't. Some people don't like my body. Some people do. I'm unfortunately in the former camp more often than not. And it is on those days especially that I want to shout from the rooftops, "Thin bodies are not the best bodies! Please don't envy me!"

I would argue that most of us struggle with our bodies. We all have bodies, after all. So instead of envying one another (I've been guilty, too!), could we respond with a little grace? Could we leave room for the body debates that some people want to have and step aside to have another discussion? Could we start talking about how we can support and care for one another in our struggles, how we can support and care for ourselves? Let's stop the envy, friends. Let's start some compassion. Let's stop talking about our bodies and start talking about some bigger things. Goodness knows there are bigger issues at stake in our world right now!

Repressed Feelings

I work with children in the behavioral health field. Something we talk about time and time again are seasons and how they affect kids. We often find that kids get dysregulated around certain times of year, not because of the times of year specifically, but because of the things associated with those times of year. Guess what? Adults are the same way!

I've had several times recently where I've found myself unknowingly upset about something. I've despaired about a move, even though it was exciting. I've been sad around a holiday, even though there is no sadness this year. I've felt trapped by weather, even though I'm not actually trapped. In each case, the emotions I felt were associated not with the actual events or seasons, but were brought up by associations with previous events and seasons. I've had moves that were traumatic. I've had sad holidays. I've been trapped by snow, tornadoes, and other tumultuous weather. The brain is a powerful machine, and the external stimuli associated with current events are bringing up unpleasant feelings associated with past events.

Why do I share all this? Because I think a lot of us have feelings that upset us. We judge ourselves for the feelings without realizing where they might be coming from. We think we should be past the past and we give ourselves no grace to feel the way we do. And in so doing, we miss the change to reprocess times and seasons of our lives so that they might become good again.

So in this new year, if you have some unpleasant feelings, I encourage you to acknowledge them, to sit with them, and to see if you can find out where they come from. If you can, process those feelings. Let yourself feel them. And then resolve to redeem the current seasons and events. And if you don't know where the feelings come from, still let yourself feel them. Let yourself grieve. And then move on. This is the way to authentic living, to living in the moment, to feeling the joy, even if there is some associated pain.

Wasted Time

I've caught myself "wasting time" a few nights lately. I've been sitting scrolling through social media, or researching stupid stuff, or just...sitting. And I've started to judge myself. But then the Spirit prompted me to have a little self-compassion. I've been living life at a breakneck speed. I've been busy, busy, busy, and often have not had time to even cross off the things on my daily to-do list. It's a rare occasion that I actually have time to spare.

And when I have time to spare, it makes sense that I don't know what to do with it. It makes sense that I am tired, that I just want to veg. And some nights that's all I seem to be able to do.

So I've been letting myself sit. I've been letting myself off the hook of having to be productive before bed. I've been heading for snack time earlier and lingering over the newspaper a little longer. Or I've been telling myself it's okay if I just want to go to sleep early. 

There is a time for productivity and work, but sometimes I need a break. Sometimes I need "wasted time" to remind me to give thanks for work. Sometimes I need wasted time to remind me how good productivity feels. Sometimes I need wasted time to signal that I need more rest.

So I guess what I'm saying is that "wasted time" really isn't wasted. It's a teacher, and one I'm learning from, maybe not forever, but at this time in life, and probably again in the future.

I Needed Flowers.

I went to Trader Joe's and bought myself some flowers. I felt a little ridiculous doing it, not because there's anything wrong with buying flowers, but because I felt like I needed them. It had been a long week. I had a cold, and I felt like my life was going down the tubes even though it wasn't. The only thing I could think that would help at the moment was flowers. So I went and bought them.

I work in mental health. I think I should have it together, but I don't. And even though I tell everyone else to take care of themselves, I don't do a very good job of it for myself. But I did it that day, and it helped, that day and for the next several days.

So here's to self-care, friends, to slowing down, and to listening to intuition. Because sometimes you really do need the flowers.

I Can't Do This.

I work in the helping profession. You'd think I'd know how to love people. Nope! God has been impressing on me lately the fact that I don't really know how to love people, or at least love them well.

The problem, you see, is that I've been trying to love people out of my own power. I've been trying to love people because I'm a good person, because loving is what I'm supposed to do. And it's not working. In and of myself, I don't have enough love for the world. I don't have enough love for myself for crying out loud! And that's where the problem lies. 

I read a quote on Pinterest recently that said "Embracing God's love is the key to loving others." As much as I preach self care and self compassion and self love, I often lack it for myself. That's because I'm not resting in God's love and in who He says I am. I am out being busy, trying to do the right things, trying to earn God's favor, trying to justify Jesus saving me, even if I know that's impossible. I've got it all backwards.

I can't love on my own. I can't live on my own. I can only love and live because the Holy Spirit of Christ indwells me with the love of the Father. I have zero power. God has absolute power.

Perhaps I've been so tired lately because I've been trying to regenerate myself, to do in my own mind and heart and soul what only Christ can do. I've been focusing on doing love instead of being filled with Love. It's not working.

God, let me find myself in your love. You love me perfectly and completely. You gave your only Son for me! Fill the empty vessel of this life you created in me with your love. Let your love in me flow out to others for your honor and glory. I can't do this. You can.

I'm SO Tired...

I'm SO tired. 

How do I know? Besides physical symptoms of yawning and general malaise, there are some other common markers for me:

• It takes more time to get out of bed in the morning.
• I cease reading my Bible on a regular basis.
• My runs are slower.
• I spend WAY too much time on social media.
• I look to food for comfort and emotionally eat.
• I don't go to bed on time, often due to the two aforementioned issues.
• I'm cranky and irritable.
• I lack creativity.

I can be angry with myself about these things, or I can give myself grace. I can recognize my signs of tiredness and start thanking my brain and body for them. Now's not the time for shame or blame or guilt. Now's the time for addressing the issue.