It’s been a rough month, hasn’t it? Most of the people I’ve spoken to lately are feeling it. It gets dark too early, it’s too chilly, too damp, everything is too expensive, everyone is in a bad mood, everything hurts a little more than usual, and everything is a little harder to do. It’s not one thing, it just feels like everything is getting a little worse.
Or maybe I’ve just been depressed. It happens.
Work’s been tough of late. I’m struggling with the fact that what I do isn’t important in any real sense. I can push through it when it’s providing a lot of free and clear time off and enough resources to do interesting things with that time, but lately it’s been more draining than normal and inflation has eroded that cushion I’d grown to count on.
Watching Twitter do whatever it’s doing isn’t helping. I spend an unhealthy amount of time there and it’s not getting any healthier. Over the last month, I have blocked more people than I have in the previous eight years on the site. I’m not a fan of the new owner, a guy who’s one of those wealthy mediocre types who thinks they can get away with anything because they’re rich.
Everyone can see what’s going on
Sinead knew of what she spoke
They laugh ’cause they know they’re untouchable
Not because what I said was wrong
Anyway, I’m just throwing words at the wall trying to describe a feeling and if I haven’t done so by now, I doubt continuing to try is going to help. I’ve been down. That’s all I’m saying.
While I was sitting on the couch the other night, scrolling through one social media site or another, too tired and too nervous to do anything, the switch flipped. Or, a switch flipped. This is not what I want to do. I want to read, to write, to make music, to enjoy my time with my wife, and maybe even travel a little. What I don’t want to do is glue my eyes to some billionaire’s toy and have a heart attack from the impotent rage.
Yes, I recognize that the problem is probably obvious from your point of view, as are some of the ways to address the problem. Understand that, from where I sit, it’s not obvious until suddenly it is.
So, job 1 is: Get the damn bird app off my phone. Get all social media off of it (with the exception of Instagram, because I have to post cat pictures). If I’m going to use social media, make it (ugh, I hate this expression) intentional. Only use it when I’m sitting in front of a computer. People who do moderation better than I do might not need to play that game, but I know me better than that.
Next on the agenda is make space for the things I want to do. You know the old bit about “No matter what you say your priorities are, the things you spend your time on are your true priorities.” I can’t really argue with that, and I don’t want “work” and “recover from work” to be my top two, so…yeah, get it together Mr. Kemp.
I have notebooks full of clumps of story fragments. I have two albums worth of unfinished songs. My nightstand is buckling under the weight of all the books I’m meaning to read. Friends have written novels that I haven’t even read yet, and that ain’t right. My wife likes to remind me how much happier I am when I’m doing those things instead of getting angry at my phone and not only is she right, I’m also a lot happier when I listen to her.
The switch that flipped wasn’t some insight that there were changes I needed to make to get out of this rut; it was a belief that I could do them. It didn’t hurt that I got some of the most inspiring comments on my side hustle that I’ve ever heard and that’ll pump a guy up pretty fast. For the first time in months, I’ve felt like things were on the upswing, I was pointed in the right direction, and a little momentum was building.
Oh, and finally, thanks for bearing with me through this. It’s a very “LiveJournal” sort of personal/mental health/vaguebooking/type of post that probably ought to embarrass me. Then again, I wrote a Sovietwave song in 11/8 last night just to see if I could, so my shame threshold is pretty broken right now. To show you how much I appreciate you, here’s one of the finest pieces of music ever committed to bits. Air’s “La Femme d’Argent” extended to 26 glorious minutes. Enjoy!
-RK