Still Sick, Still Stressed, Still Writing

I would just like to preface this post by mentioning the fact that I still feel absolutely horrible. Not sure why I have this wonderful lingering sickness, but I do. And it's awesome, and I'm sure that it's made me an awesome person to be around lately, if you're unlucky enough to have to be around me.

At the moment, I feel very stressed. At the moment, I don't know if I'm going to be able to manage all the things that I've told myself I need to do, and the fact that my lungs are trying to secede via fits of coughing do not ameliorate the situation. It's like, goddamn, you know, I feel like I could manage this awesome pile of tasks if I was feeling my A game, feeling good, but in this state? It's hard enough to even find the will or the focus to do any work.

I realize that I'm whining and for that, I'm sorry. I would use these feelings in a more constructive way, but I already wrote on Sunday about how being sick and having deadlines are an extremely tense situation. Don't really have anything new to say on the topic.

Is it comforting or alarming to think about the fact that I'm down to the wire, that there's just about a month left? I guess on the one hand, it's reassuring to know that this, too, shall pass, but it's interrupted by that terrible sense of anxiety that time is running out, that there's so much to do and I'm wasting time by blogging about it, writing my stupid novel project, and so on and so on.

This is the part where I make some sort of keen insight, so that it's all worthwhile; most of all, that it's worth something to you to continue reading. I, sadly, do not have any such insight tonight. What I do know, however, is that even though my skull feels like it's going to explode, even though I feel completely swamped with work, I don't feel like I've made the wrong choice here. It's weighing heavily on my mind, this NaNoWriMo project. Should I really keep going, when I have so much to do? Or at the very least, shouldn't I put it off until I've done the other projects first, the writing that's going to count towards my grade?

And yet, I can't bring myself to stop, not when I've come so far. I don't want to stop. And that's something that, even as I write it, strikes me as a profound and amazing thing. I don't know if I've ever really felt this way before about a project, about writing. For so long, it's been "oh, I really should be writing" or "I really should be writing more." I don't think I've ever felt like I should stop, that I'm doing too much, that I need to refocus.

I think I like that feeling, actually. Sure, it means I'm still stressed as hell, swamped with things to do, but it also feels like a measure of success; a sign that I've really made strides against my tendency to say "oh, I don't feel like writing today, maybe I'll start that story tomorrow."

I do believe I will do anything to prevent myself from sliding back into that habit. Even if it means stressing myself out in the process.

No idea whether or not that's a healthy attitude.