The shelter at home order has been extended and this new way of living will continue for at least another month. I’ve become regular at writing. But my writing lacks soul. I’m not sharing any really insightful or entertaining updates. Editing removes spontaneity. But pushing to publish removes thought.
On the other hand I feel better. And I’m excited to start new things. So. It’s time to continue journaling privately and wrap up the pandemic blog and switch back to longer and better posts. So long for now. Back soon with more.
So even during normal times I sink into what I can only describe as anxious sensitivity. It’s not really depression or darkness or the blues. Though I’ve used those words before. It’s more like a heightened sensitivity. It feels chemical, as if something is acting inside me that makes me more reactive, more sensitive to things that normally wouldn’t bother me. I sink into a pit of malaise. My physical environment deteriorates. Putting a towel back on the rack seems like pointless effort. I become upset over little things and every issue becomes an insurmountable hurdle. I care about everything and everything is overwhelming.
As a child, when I got this way I would get butterflies in my stomach. I wouldn’t be able to eat. I would complain of stomach aches. I would be afraid of activities and people. As I got older I learned to cope. Sometimes I would hole up with a blanket and a book. When I discovered alcohol I found that it would cut me off from the feeling. Not really solve it, the feeling was still there, but I stopped caring and it didn’t matter. Then eventually I found that if I made myself take one little step out and do something fun with people or outdoors the feeling really did go away. But it had to be something that didn’t require thinking. Hiking was great. Or going to dinner. Or a concert. But light not serious. Comedy clubs were best. Or a massage. Or sitting in the park and looking at water.
So now I have to find new ways of coping…perhaps go back to crafts and puzzles. But I’m realizing now as part of the pandemic “aha’s” that the only thing that makes me better is getting out and moving. Whether it’s going to get coffee and meeting a friend or hiking to a mountain lake, I need to get out to reset. Alcohol doesn’t work.
So what a week. I haven’t been posting all week. My job got reorganized and I have an exciting new role doing work that I love – starting a whole new business. So I’ve had a lot of early morning meetings. And separately from that my leg was still hurting but then it moved into my foot and my leg stopped hurting. It’s some kind of weird moving pain/inflammation. One ibuprofen seems to calm it down so I can function. But walking or exercise is out of the question. Which is really depressing. And I had a birthday and my wonderful friends and family all reached out which made me very happy. But sad too because I wasn’t able to go out and celebrate. When this is all done I’m going to host one hell of a giant party.