You may or may not have noticed that I haven’t posted a blog in about two weeks. If you didn’t notice it’s no skin off my nose. If you did, I am seriously flattered! Thank you for caring about this little thing that I do! If you were wondering why the silence, I have your answer: because for about a week there I literally didn’t do anything. Something very scary happened to me, something that has never happened before.
I gave up.
Not in an “on life” manner, but for me it was still really dramatic. I have been so stressed, so sick all the time, so nervous about the future and about getting a foothold in the industry to build myself a life, that I sort of snapped. Not to mention that with all the public shootings and some recent digestive issues on my end, I’ve been edging towards agoraphobia. For a day or two last week, I honestly started to ask myself, “Would you be happy just staying home, working in a bookstore or something, and having a normal life?” Please note that there is nothing wrong with this trajectory, but I have never throughout my cognitive existence had this thought. I’ve always had intense drive and high hopes and determination to make art for the rest of my life, but things finally got to be too much, at least in the scary bounds of my imagination.
I came home and came down from the high of seeing my Pittsburgh friends and Pittsburgh art, a come down that really sucked. I spent the week binging the first season and half of the second of Heroes (the first season has 23 40-minute episodes, so that’s bad even for me). I felt dull and dumb and like a non-person, but at least it was easy. Man, easy can be really bad for you. All of this being said, there is no need to fear that after this week of nothingness I’ve given up on my desired career. (And if you would fear, I ADORE you for caring so much!)
When the weekend hit I read a lot of my Victorian novel instead of Netflixing, took the dog on some walks, and started up the yoga again. I made myself move and I made myself breathe and I remembered that yeah, life is hard, but that if I give up on my dreams because they’re hard, I’ll never be happy. So here I am, blogging again, and finally beginning to look for NYC sublets.
Starting out is the hardest part, and often seems like a never-ending test of endurance and identity. Obviously, this is not the most ideal time to be perpetually ill. But I’ll get better, because I am strong. Just like all of you incredible readers are strong. Even if our imaginations bring us down, we all have the power to get back up.
Thanks for listening to my feels-rant. I’ll have some real stuff with the humour and the health coming out next week :)