It’s been a bit of an intense summer for me, involving family drama, friend drama, political burnout, long patches of solitude and depression, then very intense group socialising (which I find just as difficult as loneliness), working pretty hard on activist type projects, the suicide of a beloved friend I was having a disagreement with (and therefore left on difficult terms), and the fallout thereof. For the past month or so, I’ve been in limbo between feelings of ‘that was awful thank god it’s over’ and ‘what there’s more?! All that AND THIS?’ when new things have cropped up.
However I think the dust is really starting to settle now, so I’m looking in, assessing the damage. In a way it’s been good not having the time to stop and breathe, because I’ve not been able to look down and get frightened. Now I must. Because the strain is starting to show in my body. I feel anxious all the time, both overbusy and bored. My sleep isn’t great. My diet isn’t great. My days all feel frantic and out of my control. I feel I’m only just keeping up with the basics of life, and not managing to do anything extra.
I went for a (quite fraught, but lovely) walk around the park today and saw that it was beautiful. I hadn’t planned the walk and couldn’t decide how well it fitted into the day’s plans, so I kept it short, but it was nice. It would have been nicer if my responsibilities at home hadn’t pulled me away so soon. Nicer if I’d budgeted in the time.
It isn’t so much that I am busy as that I feel it. I have to catch up with my coursework for my degree (which I simply ditched when my friend died) but haven’t yet reached the perfect cocktail of fear and shame to kickstart me into putting in the work. So I can’t really fully enjoy the other things I do with my time because I’ve got that hanging over me.
An easy solution to this problem would be to get a little coursework done relatively early in the day, but I find that very difficult to do. It’s too tempting to pootle around reading the internet and drinking coffee in the morning until it’s time to leave the house. Nevertheless, I’m going to try.
Something else that makes me insecure is not having a set menu and planned meals. There are boring reasons I attribute this food insecurity to, which I doubtless will tell you about in another post, but today, all you need to know is that I think I would benefit from always knowing where my next meal will be had, and what it will be.
Another thing is exercise. I’ve not really done any in a month, and I’m starting to feel it. My muscles have shrunk, my endurance diminished, and my posture’s bad. I’m scared to run because I don’t want to feel how unfit I’ve become. But the longer I leave it, the worse it’ll be.
My attention span is shot to shit. I’ve very needy nowadays. I constantly seek out distraction – I can’t focus. My time is so fragmented I feel tired and frazzled after a day of mostly nothing, numbed by the constant onslaught of stimulus.
So that’s me at the moment. I’m not in the best of places. But I’ve got people who love me, and who are holding my hope for me while I struggle. I’ve been through tough times before, I am not unarmed. It’s just going to be a hard slog.