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| Cabinet Mineral for Soleil Rouge Digital — March, 2020 Alisa Calypso |
Life has been hectic lately. I don't know if it's post-separation comedown, or post-mid-pandemic malaise, or post-busy-work-springtime, but I find myself challenged to stay motivated to do anything. Monday mornings, I often take a little crash for anywhere from one to 24 hours: rot on the couch, watch sitcoms, scroll social media, and ignore my duties and responsibilities. It's not ideal for actually getting anything done; it's also not ideal to feel slightly out of control of the crash, as though I can barely drag myself to the resting point before turning my brain entirely off.
watching sitcoms | watching improv shows | reading
romance novels | reading fun magazines | a little snack | a seasonal
fruit | a new flavour of sparkling water | reading a how-to book | putting my phone away
The things that sustained me in other hectic, hard-brain times—Drag Race, knitting, cooking, queer romance novels—have lost their lustre. I don't think it's depression, because I'm still joyful and grateful to be alive, but it's like a little void has opened up and I'm not sure what, exactly, to fit it with. I like being busy, but it feels like one of those situations where you've been eating strawberries your whole life, and then suddenly, you mouth is itchy when you eat one. Where did that come from?
doodling | hanging art on the walls | sewing | knitting | blogging | writing a short story | writing a poem | menu planning |
I feel somewhat like my creative tank has been spilled out—and really, it's hard to be creative when we're in survival mode all the time. I feel also like I've been someone with passionate hobbies (those of you with ADHD and autism are shouting "hyperfixations! special interests!" and don't think I can't hear you), but to suddenly find myself with a lack of hobbies, or at least hobbies that are fuelling my creative tank, is weird. Yes, I'm still knitting, but nothing too involved. Yes, I'm still blogging, but my last post was a blob. I'm still doing stuff, but I'm doing the most basic versions of the most basic stuff. Why?
dancing | going for long walks | lifting weights | yoga | riding my
bike | swimming in the lake | throwing a football around | flying a kite | a massage
Realistically, I don't feel energized and I'm not sure why. Is this perimenopause? Is this...sadness? Is this a meme about anime and Harry Potter? Is it burnout? Is this something else? I feel much less anxious in my daily life than I have for many years, but was anxiety the fuel I used to propel myself forward? If so, respectfully, what the fuck? Because this feels boring, and I feel like I'm boring right now, and I hate feeling that way! And maybe I do need to unpack why I feel the need to be interesting and helpful and shiny all the time, but really, I also enjoy doing things and not doing things feels sluggy and weird! So: perimenopause? Burnout? Sadness? WHAT??
talking on the phone | going for coffee with a friend | dinner with my
sister | walks with my mom | driving with my dad | going to the splash
pad with my kiddo | pal sleepovers | visiting friends out of town |
sitting in a busy coffee shop | sitting in a quiet library | therapy |
sending a card in the mail | writer's group | volunteering | snuggling
Maybe this is just a season of slow. Summer is often go-go-go, but it actually carries a lot of grief for me. Summer is when people have historically gotten sick, and when affairs have come to light, and when a walk on the beach is likely to contain slow tears or a drunken sob. I do much better in spring and fall, when the heat is soft and the days have structure. And, after all, I am still grieving the collapse of my marriage, and the additional relationship devastations that have piled on since then. I feel punched in the brain, in the heart, and like I'm still trying to get up from that.
tidying up | paying my bills | laundry | sweeping | grocery shopping |
cooking something easy | cooking something hard | gardening |
And maybe this is also a bit of choice paralysis: I could be doing anything, and instead, I'm curled up on the couch because it all feels a bit impenetrable. My creative goals used to be small-scale ("knit a pair of socks!") and then I felt like I could take on more; then I started edging into territory like "refurbish the dining room table" and that might actually be too big for me. Shoot for the moon and you will land among stars? Dude, I can't even figure out how to get off the launchpad. I've thought a lot about how percolation is a key element in my creative process, but where does percolation stop and overwhelm begin?
a soft shirt | a cozy blanket | a pretty dress | a nice bit of jewellery | showering | good-smelling soap | the right sunglasses
The idea of sitting in the void, even just for now, is stressing me out. It's not my usual way. My usual way is to distract myself with a million things to do, little jobs that keep me busy and moving and going all the time. And I want to get back to that—I do!—but the motivation is so low. I don't really know what my alternatives are. I can't force myself to feel better. I can't bully myself into productivity. I mourn the loss of the easy, spring-up side of myself, and trust that she will return.
And if she doesn't, who will I be?
