Sometimes you’ve just got to look at an empty page without anything particular in mind. I chose not to offer up my attention to the debates last night, and I think I am better off mentally for it, based on all of your reactions. We watched Brave and A Bug’s Life back to back while it was happening, and I didn’t check social media until around 3 a.m. today. My sleep cycle is all kinds of off, but once we move, my partner will be able to access the kitchen again without the barrier of stairs.
The desire to be remembered is fading as I realize there will be no more generations to study the present as its history. Everything I make is free to ultimately be consumed by the void. As I commit to writing almost daily on the blog, my sense of perfectionism is being painfully broken. I don’t think I’m phrasing things the way I think of them in my head, nor do I feel that my priorities are reflected in what floats to the surface when I sit down to write.
I’m trying to pull as much creativity out of myself as possible, but this upcoming month, I’m going to be really busy with getting everything together to move. I’m dreading it. I hate packing, I hate moving, I hate dealing with everything about it. I hate making phone calls, I hate negotiating, I hate scrounging up funds to fork over to landlords, I especially hate packing. Packing is a central trigger for me, my nightmares are full of desperately, urgently packing.
Today, a sense of hopelessness has spread its way across all my circles. Like I said, I didn’t watch the debate, and I think my mental health is better for it, but I’m still struggling not to feel the sense of despair. Even though I felt like I was resigned to it already, like I saw this coming, like it’s exactly why I didn’t watch. The reality for the American people is that our 2-party system has failed to give us anything more than the illusion of choice.
It’s a fight to keep myself typing. I keep talking myself through it, holding my own hands mentally to pull myself through the process of blogging. I can’t be burning out already. I have to make this a regular thing. The only way is to stop demanding perfection of myself.
I’m a mess today. If you are, too, you’re not alone.