One Hand in My Pocket, and The Other One Is Taking a Chill Pill
THE COLOR.
Lately, I’ve found myself longing for the early days of the stay-at-home advisory. While they were weird and scary, the collective experience of the whole world was also somehow comforting.
When the pandemic started, there was nothing but company. The entire world was seeking out their little communities to commiserate and share findings on the pandemic. I had my little group of family and friends and we rode the waves together. We were all staying home, worrying about our families, digesting and sharing information, and reporting on lines at the grocery store.
Like many people, I took the opportunity to overhaul my life. I started eating better, working out more regularly, and building better habits. Not commuting helped me gain so much more time in my day to try on all the healthy habits. By May, I was working out 5-6 times a week, making all of my dinners at home, reading, writing, watching good TV and enjoying working from home.
As the pandemic kept fucking going, but “normal life” started picking back up, everything started to shift for me. All of my healthy habits were so ingrained in me that they became less exciting to accomplish. There weren’t any goals anymore because I had SMASHED THEM ALL! I felt stuck, but also scared that when life went back to normal, all of my progress would be ruined. I was anxiously anticipating someone telling me it was all over.
Life kept moving forward, but there has been no real “return to normal”. Sure, there is a return to some semblance of a new normal, but I still feel like I’m existing in this in-between space. Regulations have started to shift and change as Covid has become a regular part of life now, but what is regular life?
Now that the dust has settled on a tumultuous two years, I’m realizing that THINGS ARE WEIRD AND I DON’T FEEL GOOD! I have spent so much time just trying to get by and now there’s a constant heaviness in my chest and an ever present doom-and-gloom feeling. I haven’t been able to put my finger on why, but I’ll try to explain.
Maybe you can relate?
I fear the return to “normalcy”. I don’t want to return to “the before times” just because. I understand it is a privilege to work from home, but I appreciate the autonomy and work/life balance that remote work has provided. I also get SO much more done, and appreciate the mental break of doing dishes or throwing in a load of laundry. As a trainer, I also find it much more inclusive. I miss in-person training too, and think there’s a place for it, but I think engaging workshops can be done virtually and include way more people. I’m just waiting for my organization to call it quits and have us go back on a more consistent basis, and that’s not the world I want to live in.
I’m depleted of energy and easily triggered. I feel like I am drowning in negative energy. The news, the social media fights, the conspiracy theories, the propaganda against science, the memes making fun of other people. Even if a friend disagrees with me about something, I’m triggered. I feel like we’re all unstable and insecure right now and I just can’t handle it coming from every angle anymore. I’m overly sensitive and I can’t handle my own emotions, along with everyone else’s.
I’m tired, frustrated, and completely unmotivated.. This is because I’m having a hard time bouncing back. I know exactly what I need to do. I know every single thing that has worked for me in the past; including trying a new workout routine, breaking out of my comfort zone, trying something new, social interaction, etc. Yet, I have absolutely zero motivation to do any of it.
I miss feeling motivated, engaged, excited, accomplished, passionate, and calm.
But… last weekend, I found a little bit of hope. It was a warm, sunny Sunday and I signed out of Instagram. I decided to have a day of disconnection. When negativity is bothering me, it’s the first thing to go. I sat down to read a book and write, but I was too antsy and unfocused. For weeks, I had been meaning to paint my bedroom. I had the paint, the materials, and ladder ready to go. I just had to do it. So… I did it. I put on an audiobook (Snowflake by Louise Nealon, really good, I recommend it) and I painted my bedroom.
It took forever. Three hours to be exact. And I burned something like 600 calories doing it, according to my watch. However, once I finished, I felt immense pride and accomplishment. I completed something that was overwhelming and scary! I am NEVER doing it again because painting is the FUCKING WORST but HEY! I did it!!!
That evening, for the first time in a very long time, I sat on my couch and binged Netflix without a care in the world. I didn’t feel guilty, or ashamed, or distracted, or anxious. I felt so enthusiastic about completing a daunting task all on my own that I just, finally, chilled.
I am going away this week and hoping to use it as a time to unplug and recharge and CHILL. Maybe it’ll be how Patty gets her groove back, I don’t know. All I know is that I’m ready for whatever the next phase of life is, as long as it looks different than before. Maybe it means I’ll have to create what’s next for myself, one overwhelming and scary task at a time.