I’ve been in nowhere land for the month of January. Having three weeks off reminds me of how much I would rather not work. Not because I filled my time off with wonderfully productive things, but because I am lazy.
During my break I popped into work a couple of times to do payroll, tax, churn through loads of emails and print things out. I resented every second of being there but at least I was getting paid. I was thankful that I did not start work until the 16th so that gave me an extra week to do nothing but sleep in, mosey around the house doing ‘things’ and then go to CrossFit. I realised that I am possibly very lazy or a procrastinator. The latter seems to be the accurate one.
I am a procrastinator. My entire life is spent thinking about things I want to do when I get through doing what I have to do. Needless to say, all that thinking goes no further. I just find more things that have to be done. Or, worse, I completely waste the spare time I have by poking at my phone and surfing the net. Believe me, I have more spare time than I care to admit.
Over time I have become so disinterested in doing things that I sometimes wonder if there is something wrong with me. During a session with the psych I was talking about this incredible lack of interest in doing anything outside of the following:
- Home stuff
He asked if it was because I did not know what to do or because I could not be bothered. I said it was both, but mostly that I could not be bothered doing anything. Everything was boring or too hard. He suggested that perhaps I was not allowing myself to do things that I just ‘liked’ rather than doing things that I had to do. I seem to be better at doing things that are kind of duty bound.
I told him how my younger sister was not working and she was doing things for herself. She had set up a sustainable garden and was making things in the kitchen. There was envy on my part also because she is taking almost no Bipolar medication these days as she is away from her stressful work environment due to other health issues. And she has got health problems admittedly but I still felt a level of resentment that she was mostly doing what she wanted and I wasn’t. Trouble is, I don’t know exactly what I want to do, if anything. I just want the option.
Then I thought about my older sister who, with her husband, has sold up and moved to a place two hours from the city to start an organic berry farm. She uploads photos and drone films of what is happening on her farm. Personally, I’d never, ever in a million years do what she is doing as it seems a lot like hard work. In fact, her photos and videos bore the life out of me but I am happy for her. She often asks when we are going to visit and I keep dodging the question.
Firstly, it is miles away and I don’t have the spare time. Secondly, she stresses me out to the point where I have to take anti anxiety medication just to be around her for any length of time. And, finally, I know that we would be expected to pitch in and help pick strawberries or some shit like that. I am not ever picking strawberries except from off the shelf at the grocers. Now and issue has arisen. Although it is only an issue in my head. She did my website and I need to make some changes/additions to it but have forgotten my password. I don’t want to ask her for it in case she asks me the question “when are you coming to visit?” and I am going to have to make an excuse to not go. This will ensure her being passive aggressive to me and fuck me off. Siblings hey.
The thing is, she is doing what she really wants to do. Though, I wonder if she thought she wanted to do it and may be regretting it as their money is getting gobbled up very quickly.
My brother and his family go on holidays during the Christmas break. His wife organises things otherwise he would be like me and go nowhere. I don’t want to go on a holiday as I kind of like hanging around the house, but I want to want the option. Does that make sense? I’d like to ‘want’ to go somewhere but I don’t give a fuck. I don’t care if I never go away ever again. The only place I seem to really like going is in the studio so that I can lie on the recliner, start to read a book and then fall into a slack mouth deep sleep and escape from the world and any decision making. And that is what I do more often than not. Sometimes I don’t even bother making the short journey to the studio and just fall asleep in the lounge room.
Years ago I recall being at my father’s house having a coffee and he stepped outside to have a cigarette. I watched him kicking a ball around to my dog. It occurred to me that I never saw my dad do anything like that. He just worked and when he wasn’t working he was reading the paper, having a sleep or watching television. He didn’t know how to do anything but work. He would fill spaces between work with not much at all really. Maybe I do the same. I am not sure.
I am really stable these days. To the point where I feel as though I live in another world to what I used to. When I look back at how I was it freaks me out. I have no doubt I was (and still am) a nice person but my head space was always going one million miles an hour and now it does the opposite. Maybe the medication has made me just a bit too stable. In the past I could rely on the energy of my mood swings to get things done. Even when very depressed I knew that the upswing would give me energy and momentum to achieve a huge amount. That energy has totally and absolutely gone down the drain. Fortunately, with that went a lot of extremely unpleasant emotions so, I guess that is the payoff. Nothing would inspire me to go back to that place.
Since my last post on January 2nd, my husband has painted our bedroom. I took down the curtains and he used them as drop sheets. I threw out my old lady lamp. Got rid of more clothes, handbags, scarves and just a lot of stuff I had not thought about for ages. Even K and S had a clean out (at my behest). S found a top in his drawer that was about ten years old. Now my bedroom is bright and fresh ready for new blinds coming next week. You forget how dingy things look until you paint them. The bathroom and laundry renovation is on hold for another week so I am still doing washing out on the back verandah. Not that I give a shit, it’s Summer so that is fine by me. It’s kind of nice being outside sorting washing in warm weather.
My CrossFit has been going well but last week I had a hiccup when Monday saw me wake up with a migraine and I was unable to go to work. This had been preceded by over a week of awful nerve pain on one side of my face. Then, to top things off, I hurt my shoulder doing something (not sure what). So the week felt like a bit of a fail. But, the upside was that I only worked two days as Australia had a public holiday on Thursday which meant half the country took Friday off to have a four day weekend.
As I have been doing this post, I wondered if maybe it was okay to just not be bothered about much. Maybe it is that transition from letting go of one part of life and just drifting until the next part meets you somewhere in the middle. Perhaps I just need a break from feeling the need to fill every moment in my day with ‘meaningful’ and ‘productive’ activities.
Maybe I might just enjoy being aimless for a while longer.