I would love to blame my blahs on winter. It would be so easy to shrug off the way I’ve been feeling by gesturing out the window and shrugging. But really, here in Northern California we’ve had the mildest winter that I can remember. It’s been sunny and springlike for months and there’s absolutely no way that I can blame the weather when we keep walking around outside in our bare feet and can sit and soak up the sun whenever I want.
I would love to blame my blahs on the kids. But I can’t do that either. They’ve been amazing. Happy, not challenging, busy living their lives, doing their thing.
I could blame it on the puppy. Say that having her in our lives has been more of an upheaval than we expected, but that would be a lie of epic proportions. She’s a delight too. Sure, she chews up any roll of duct tape that she can find and she’s making the cat’s life miserable, but other than that she’s merged into our lives with a surprising lack of ripples.
So what’s the deal?
Because I’m a mess.
I have zero energy to accomplish anything, and frankly even less desire to even try.
I don’t know if I’m experiencing a backlash from having powered through years of crisis management and having to adjust to “life after the crisis.” Or if it’s some kind of post-publication-and-achieving-a-lifelong-dream letdown. I don’t know what the heck is going on. Maybe it’s even an “the industry that I chose to work in is slowly imploding around me and I just don’t have the energy or desire to try to find a new career path” issue. Or maybe I’m still grieving for the friends who left and the babies who will never be.
Whatever it is, I’m 100% over it.
I would like to feel excited about life again. I would like to feel full of joy again. I want to want to hang out with friends, to go to my mother’s group meetings, to go experience new things, or heck, just want something other than curling up and getting lost in a book.
I just don’t know what to do to get there. It’s like that piece of me that can make that happen is broken and I don’t know how to fix it.
In the past, waiting out these blue periods has done the trick. And in hindsight, I can’t tell if they ever were as long as this one has been, so I can’t tell if that’s going to be the same thing here.
But maybe publicly acknowledging that something is wrong, that something feels broken is the first step to clawing myself out of the pit of despair (said in my best Mel Smith as The Albino in the Princess Bride voice).
One can only hope, right?
Because I’m tired of feeling broken. Of feeling like I’m drowning.