I wake up on Monday mornings, but I don’t feel like myself. Why? I don’t know, I haven’t figured it out yet. I snooze my alarm clock a thousand times, and, of course, it goes off about every five minutes. It’s not a nice alarm either. It’s the ordinary one that comes with iPhones and lazy people like myself don’t change the sound.

Maybe if I set my phone away from the bed, then it’d be harder to fall into temptation and hop back in. But no, I don’t think so, because I’d jump right back into bed after turning it off. Yes, it has happened before. It’s not about forming a habit as much as it is figuring out why I can’t get up. There are good routines that you read about on Medium, MindBodyGreen, or any self-help blog, and then there are the ones that I create for myself and can’t seem to shake away.

My body feels as though I ran a marathon the previous day. That is, even if I didn’t partake in the “brunch festivities” (and by that I mean heavy drinking) or even if I didn’t participate in much physical activity. So that can’t be it. It can’t be about how much I do or don’t do or how much I drink or don’t drink. During those Monday mornings, my mind doesn’t feel rested or refreshed, but it does feel as if Monday was slowly taking over my life. Aside from the physical pain, I do not feel tired. It’s not like I go back to sleep anyway. I toss and turn until the next time the alarm goes off. And believe me, that’s only five minutes away from the previous one and not worth snoozing. By now you should be thinking that I’m sad or even depressed, but honestly, I don’t think so. Does depression select certain days of the week to “attack” its victims? How selective does depression have to be to try and only mess with me on Mondays?

All along I’m thinking about the million things I have to do and work on for the whole week. I’m sure I forget a lot of them -- after all my memory is not the greatest. I’m not kidding when I say that I forget a lot of things I have to do, even when I write them down on both of my calendars. In worrying so much, I become paralyzed. Not because I’m behind, but because I have to figure out how to motivate myself to do all the things I have to do. In my mind I know that the amount of tasks I have to accomplish are doable, but I become overwhelmed by it all and I freak out a little.

I don’t understand how my life went from loving to wake up in the mornings and go see my friends in school when I was a kid, to literally dragging my feet to get up. Do I have as many friends now? Probably not as many, but the ones I have are great ones. Can they even tell that I struggle on Mondays? Probably not, but it’s not their fault. Perhaps, I should open up more about my relationship with Mondays. It can’t hurt to try. And who knows -- they might even have a similar experience with Mondays.

Maybe you deal with this too...

My relationship with Mondays isn't the best, but my relationship with the rest of the days gets progressively better. When it’s Friday I feel great. It's a vicious cycle that I wish to end.