A toolkit for the days when we are not at 100 percent
Last Monday was a sh*t day. As someone with complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (cPTSD) and who is Autistic, this kind of day can sneak up on me. It’s compounded by having Highly Superior Autobiographical Memory (HSAM), which means vivid details of past experiences both pleasant and painful can pop up in great detail – sometimes on demand and sometimes when least desired.
In this case, shortly after I awoke I vividly re-experienced an annoying interaction with a cousin that took place at my father’s funeral in 1993. My father’s death was traumatic for our family, and in fact the entire community. He was a well-loved business owner and a tireless volunteer in our community. He was killed in a traffic crash caused by a negligent driver several days before Christmas. Essentially, my cousin did and said some things that made me think he felt he was more about him than anyone else there. And, no, in case you are wondering, he and my father were not especially close.
Fortunately, when this wave of grief, relived trauma and emptiness came over me I was prepared to deal with it. It did my normal self-care practices, reflections and re-orientation of my thoughts and emotions, but it did not help. I slowly descended in a way that I certainly would not have pretended to go. It was then that I declared to myself, “It’s a sh*t day."
What is a Sh*t Day?
Some days start wrong. It feels heavier than it should. I know I am nowhere near 100 percent, and the work is still there. If you are Autistic, or you live with PTSD, anxiety, depression, or a body that does not always cooperate, you probably know the feeling. Since learning that I am Autistic and that I live with PTSD, I have built a way of handling these days that works for me, even on the worst ones.
A few notes before I share more. I am not a doctor or a therapist. I am a certified peer specialist for mental health, which means I have been trained to share what I have learned from my own experience to help others. Everything here is a toolkit of ideas to try, not a set of rules. And yes, I call them sh*t days.
I borrowed the phrase from the musician Pink, who comes from my hometown, Doylestown PA. Her song “Blow Me (One Last Kiss)” is angry in a way I find honest, and anger or frustration can be a useful way to help us name what is going on, which is the first step toward dealing with it.
Name the day
When a day begins and nothing feels right, I say to myself, quietly, “This is a sh*t day.” I do not post it online or announce it to my family. Naming it is not complaining. It is information, not a verdict. Before I learned this, I did my best to push through as if nothing was wrong. I learned that pushing through without taking steps to manage and heal myself in the event caused me a lot of unnecessary suffering.
Honesty with yourself is a skill. A quick check helps: “What is happening in my body, my mind, and my senses?”
Last Monday was a clear example. My body was tense. I was on edge, and when my dog moved while I was working, I startled. I also had a presentation to give and a workload to carry. None of that was a judgment of myself. It was a note about the day.
A day, a stretch, or a pattern?
It helps to know what kind of bad day this is. One bad day happens to everyone. A bad stretch usually means looking at the load we are carrying. A pattern means it is time to get help.
A few years ago I had meetings stacked every day. I was neglecting the self-care I knew helped, and then beating myself up about it. My therapist helped me see that I was putting too much pressure on myself, and I began limiting how many meetings I scheduled each day.
The signs vary: slower thinking, a shorter fuse, sensory overload, a wish to shut down, trouble starting or switching tasks. Treat these as possibilities, not a checklist.
Find the minimum
The question that changes my day is this: “What is the minimum I really need to do today?”
Not what I told myself the day before that I should do – because I certainly had a whole day planned. What do I need to do to get by?
I sort the day into three piles
- What must happen today.
- What I can move to another day
- What can be dropped completely with little or no impact.
On Monday, the primary “must” was my presentation.
Forty-some people had signed up for an eight-week course, and it was week five. A second “must” was a half-hour client meeting that could have been moved, but my client is busy and it had taken two weeks to find this slot, so I kept it.
Work on my website and writing some things for Autistic Business Network moved to the next pile.
Most days have fewer “musts” than they feel like.
The same goes in my personal life. If dinner was going to take an hour and a half of prep and cooking, then maybe I change tonight’s dinner to grilled cheese sandwiches that require an easy ten minutes.
Meetings can move
I used to treat every meeting as sacred. They are not. Most people say yes when you ask to move a meeting, especially if you offer a new time right away. I use Calendly. On a rough day, I block off everything that does not have to happen and send anyone affected a link to pick a new time. Moving a meeting early beats canceling it late.
You do not owe anyone a deep reason. “I’m not feeling well today. Can we move to Tuesday?” is honest and enough. Share only what you want to share.
Do few things, then protect tomorrow
On a minimum day, I pick the few things that matters and stop when they are done. On Monday morning, that was taking our three dogs out, feeding them, and eating my own breakfast. Then I sat in a comfortable chair, put on a YouTube video, and was done until my 11 o’clock presentation. I rested again, then did the half-hour meeting with my client, and did some more self care.
I also took time to protect the next day. I have been guilty of the catch-up marathon, moving everything to tomorrow so I will not fall behind. Do not do that. Spread the backlog over as much time as you need. I planned a lighter Tuesday and put buffers on my calendar for Wednesday.
Care that fits
Care does not have to be big. Small doses help. For my body, that means a short nap. I sit in a comfortable chair, breathe, and sleep for 10 to 20 minutes with an alarm set. It might be ten minutes of rowing on my rowing machine, a big glass of water, or some fruit or nuts.
For my senses, it is music, binaural beats, singing bowls, nature videos with bird sounds, and incense. In the evening I switch our sunroom light to a dim blue.
Sensory comfort is care, not indulgence.
People are different. I am introverted, and friends often take energy from me. But sometimes a brief interaction with a friend via text feels good. But when a friend wants heavy texts back and forth on a rough day, I may say I am having a hard day myself and ask to catch up tomorrow. Sometimes I take a book to a coffee shop, where being near people living their lives helps without any conversation. Choosing what works for you is the skill. Forcing yourself is not required.
Rest or move?
Traditional advice says to rest when you are down. Some research suggests that getting outside can help. In one study, as little as ten minutes in a natural setting was linked to lower stress and a better emotional state. For me, activity helps more than friends do. Action can come before motivation, so start with two minutes. A couple of minutes of fresh air between meetings can be enough.
Autistic burnout is a different matter. Research built on the accounts of Autistic adults says that recovery takes long downtime, even from activities that are usually good for us, and fewer demands, not just a pause. A therapist I heard speak last year said that recovery can take twice as long as the time you were in burnout. If you are in Autistic burnout, find a professional who understands it. I know someone who made no progress until switching to a therapist who was knowledgeable and helpful in dealing with Autistic burnout.
(For more on Autistic burnout, see this article: Raymaker, D. M., et al., 2020. “Having all of your internal resources exhausted beyond measure and being left with no clean-up crew”: Defining autistic burnout. Autism in Adulthood.)
So match the dose to the day. On a light day, move around and go outside. On a heavy day, rest, take in less, and give yourself time to process. If the slump goes on for a long time, reduce the demands on yourself, both the outside ones and your own. Do not turn self-care into another schedule demand, either. My therapist once asked whether I realized I had made it another burden. If it adds stress, stop.
When it becomes a pattern
Keep a simple list: the date, a rating from 1 (difficult) to 5 (good), and a line about the day. Then look for patterns in sleep, seasons, workload, and hormones. Bring the list to your therapist or doctor. It is data they can use.
Here is what happened with me when I felt I was having too many difficult days in a certain period of time. A few years ago, I felt low on energy and realized I was having too many off days. My therapist helped a bit. Then at my routine labs, my doctor, who already checked my thyroid and iron regularly, added testing for my vitamin D. It was low. He recommended a supplement, and I have taken it every day since. My levels have been good, and I have far fewer off days.
It’s important to note that the research is mixed. A recent review of eleven randomized trials, covering 1,693 people, found that vitamin D may help depressive symptoms in some populations, and that a person’s starting level matters. That is why I recommend testing first. Do not self-prescribe. Your doctor sets the dose, and you should be retested as advised. My experience is not proof that supplements fix low mood. It is an example of speaking up, checking a level, and treating it.
If it is more than a bad day
If you ever have thoughts of harming yourself, please do not go through it alone. In the US, you can call or text 988. You can also call your doctor or therapist, or go to an emergency room. Help is available.
Your move
When the next sh*t day arrives, name it honestly. Write down your minimum, and preferably give thought and create plans before that day arrives. Pick a care approach that fits you. On Monday, I reached for incense, which I had not used in months, and my office still smells faintly of it. Treat all of this as experiments, not rules.
I do not replace a doctor or a therapist, but I have been through a lot, and I am happy to help. Reach out if you would like to discuss – hello@AutisticBusinessNetwork.com