do the damn thing

Do the damn thing

Where do I begin?

For months, I haven’t been able to write. I’ve started a dozen posts, I’ve made quick journal entires, I’ve jotted things down on sticky notes, but that’s it.

Sitting down and composing a coherent post, full of ideas relevant to dysautonomia, relevant to my life, relevant to anything—has been impossible.

Life has been four million different types of hectic since the holidays. Acting on things has been HARD. Starting is one horrible, terrible, impossible task. And finishing? UGH? How is anyone supposed to finish anything?

Which is why I just have to bite the bullet amid all the craziness—the chronic illness, the wild of life and even normalcy—and do the damn thing.

It won’t be shiny and perfect like I want it to be. But the first cut is the deepest because of that terrible first pancake and all of those other clichés. Get the first one out of the way and the other ideas will follow. You know all those fun phrases.

Do the damn thing.

It’s not enough to just write the post though.

Write the post. Edit the post. Publish the post.

Do the damn thing.

Add a picture. Tweet the link. Tell a couple of people.

Do the damn thing.

The mantra is relevant to everything.

Do the damn thing—that’s how I (we, everyone) tackle so many things.

It’d be nice to be sunshine and rainbows all the time. It’d be nice to hop out of bed in the morning at 7 or 8, run downstairs, get a bowl of cereal, exercise and start tackling and achieving.

It’s not though. It’s usually a series of do the damn thing. They’re not necessarily the first, ideal choice. But they get you somewhere.

I’m not supposed to, but I hit the snooze button a lot. I usually grab the granola bar I left on my bedside table the night before and eat it while I’m still asleep so it will wake me up.

Do the damn thing.

From that point on, my day varies. It always consists of exercise on my recumbent bike (the time of day varies). I often find myself in doctors’ office waiting rooms.

The daily task difficulty varies. Making a sandwich for lunch? Easy. Watching Stephen Colbert? The easiest!

But going to the grocery store? A challenge. Setting up my medication? More a nuisance than a trial, but it takes a lot of effort. Trying to find my words when my brain is foggy and scrambled? Difficult. Taking the stairs even when it feels like my legs are going to fall off? The worst. Breathing through the pain when it gets to be too much—

Do. The. Damn. Thing.

Clearing the docket makes way for the good. And even the good doesn’t have to be perfection, it just has to be enough to feel better.


See also: “Do It Anyway” by Ben Folds Five

Explaining dysautonomia: what works for me
This is brain fog


  1. Hang in there. You’re not alone! Great job doing the damn thing!

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