Misplaced Free Time

I have to admit, one of the hardest things I've had to deal with is gobs of unscheduled time. Yeah, I get that this sounds like a wonderful first world problem, but without the structure I'd embraced in my somewhat normal day-to-day life, I've found that I'm dealing with anxiety and boredom in ways that I never have before.

I've said in the past that boredom is the luxury of people with nothing better to do, but it couldn't be more wrong for every situation. For the past two weeks, I've tried to ease into projects like writing or drawing or crafts and I am overcome with this massive sense of boredom and distraction, no matter how interested I think I am when I start doing it. I've even read that this is a normal trauma response to an unnatural upheaval in life.

It's akin to PTSD. The feeling of being trapped by this expansive sense of freedom. There's too much to do and the lingering feeling that none of it is what I'm actually supposed to do. Having no actual idea what the 'supposed to do' is.

So I try everything but the feeling just left me so exhausted that I turned to sleeping a lot. Restless and unfulfilling sleep but sleep that whiled away wasted hours instead.

I might've said that you can't waste time before as well, but with this new 'normal', I can't help but feel that it all feels wasted. It may not be. This may be a valuable lesson in cherishing and adapting to new circumstances.

Slowly, I'm becoming more accustomed. Being able to blog again is one sign. Sitting in front of a computer tends to leave me feeling drained so I was avoiding it. Today, I typed about 1K words towards my book, which is a massive improvement over zero. I sense that there still may be naps, and anxiety, and even boredom to come, but I'm also feeling as if I can adapt as long as I really listen to my body right now.

Not all the crazy cravings to eat out of boredom. Not the restless need to force myself to do something. But to continue sleeping when the strong desire strikes and to lead myself towards my other desires gently. Because nothing will improve by forcing my hand right now. It simply saps my energy very quickly to ignore what my body actually needs right now.

Taking walks. Working on everything in short bursts. Sleep. It doesn't sound like ambitious motivations, but somewhere in the gentle treatment of my own trauma, there lies the strength to appreciate the month ahead, rather than dread it.

I hope you're all taking care of yourselves and dealing with these changes the best way you know how!

Golden Moments

Hey!

I know it's been a while, but I didn't want to encourage myself on a downhill slide, even on the chance it might be honest, raw or eye-opening. More often than not, it just rewards feelings not worth camping out in. What needed to happen was self-reflection and rejection of turning a good habit into a bad one.

I did the important thing and took up more temp work. I've been simultaneously confronting the anxiety and running from it. I clammed up around others but didn't push them away when they spoke to me. No one asked me what was wrong and I didn't quietly invent reasons, feed the feelings that weren't born of valid reasons to begin with.

The first night, when I was learning the job, I had to concede I had no idea how to do everything. They were understaffed even with help called in. I felt bad because I had to pull the girl off of the register to make what I didn't know how to make. Yet she was patient and kind and didn't resent me so I had no trouble telling her I was grateful for that. 

The second night, they were adequately staffed and one of the girls patiently showed me how to make the menu items I was unsure of how to do and even told me I did a great job when I held my breath and just did okay. Yet because of that kindness, I didn't hesitate or shake when I had to make them again and it felt great to not inconvenience them. That night, people asked me about my art. They also looked stunned to hear I'm 37. A 17 year old girl blurted out she thought I was 21. Even though I fancy myself immune to flattery, I felt that little flutter. Because they had no motive to make me feel good about myself, I was just genuinely touched.

I won't lie and say my anxiety magically went away. I still feel the edges of it, clamping tighter when I'm relaxing and thinking about nothing in particular. I'm sore and achy from working but even with those things working against me, I wrap my hands tightly around the kindness shown to me and tell myself I am worthy. I look forward to the people in my life and when I can find sit down in front of the tablet I'm saving for.

Then, another magic will begin.

For the time being, I'm enjoying the blend of people noticing my good qualities. I'm letting people flatter me for looking young and pretty, for showing off my intelligence and kindness, for whatever else people can see that I might have forgotten. Not because I suffer from vanity and need validation but because I too believe they are good, honest people who mean what they say. How can I expect others to believe me genuine if I can't do the same?

Tomorrow will be a good day for walking. I want to let the sunshine soak in and lift me up too. I want to spread the kindness others show to me, to show the kindness that never leaves even on the darkest days. I could say the strong version, something along the lines of the light being within me all along, but in truth, I feel strength in admitting that golden moments are reflected by many and the source is insignificant.

The sun might be the brightest, but the mirror is blinding as well.