Seriously, that’s how tired I am. I feel like I’ve done an entire week in a day. Maybe it’s because I went to see someone about my skin who told me my acne (which is currently worse than when I was a teenager) would never die down until I remove some stress from my life; but I’ve been doing a lot of overthinking about the way my anxiety has been flaring up over the past 10 months. I’m not quite sure where it stems from because as my boyfriend likes to joke on a fairly regular basis, stress is basically is my entire life. And he’s right- I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t worked up over something.
As my darling Zumreta pointed out in her post a few weeks ago, “It seems like these days so many of us try to wear busy as a badge of honor as if it proves we are worthy in this life in some way...It just doesn’t make sense why we hold being exhausted as such a high standard.” I relate to that a lot - it feels like if I’m not doing everything, I’m not doing enough. Like I need to be “on” all the time.
However even I, the ever-stubborn celestial sky-cow, am beginning to come to terms with the fact that no one human can do everything- even if social media makes it seem as though we can. No amount of reading self-help books or “How They Do It” articles can help me hit the gym every morning, work a 9-6, run a website, and write for myself and other publications on the side all while maintaining a social life and getting a recommended 6-8 hours of sleep a night. We’re hung up on this idea of “having it all,” while in reality forcing down a massive multi-course meal will make you ill-- why not take small bites of everything and enjoy it all the more?
Like my mum said on the phone the other morning, if I could just take my own advice I’d be set. Alas, I’m crap at that so I’m out here scheduling date night two weeks in advance and spending social evenings counting down the minutes before I can tumble into bed for a few hours, then do it all again.
I think some of it has to do with this idea of myself I had in my head when I moved here. New York City Moll is a go-getter, she grabs every opportunity in her path and lives this vibrant, whirlwind of a life. The-last-22-years-of-her-life Moll can be quite introverted. She likes being outside with animals and quiet time alone. She likes adventures, but she also likes eating cheese at home and not wearing pants. Trying to force all of myself into one version is uncomfortable- and it’s actually hindering my productivity. Writing is becoming more of a struggle than a passion, and I’ve become tired and irritable to the point where I can spend all day looking forwards to going home and curling up with my boyfriend- but still ruin the evening with some stress-based outburst over something that’s inconsequential in the grand scheme of things.
I sit down at the end of the day and scroll through Instagram, subconsciously measuring my day up to these fabulous celebrities and influencers with personal assistants and interns. It makes me feel as though if I’m not perpetually churning away on this epic to-do list, I’m failing. Sometimes I think about taking a bit of a break from social media; but at the same time I’d also love to one day be one of those fabulous influencers with an intern who gets paid to travel.
If we’re being honest here, the main reason I haven’t done a social media detox is because I’m worried how much of my following I’ll lose if I disengage for a few weeks. Like this (really excellent) BOF article points out, “cultivating a personal audience of highly engaged fans [is] a good career move, whether in terms of building a bigger client base for my freelance work or embarking on a long-term plan to leverage the perks of my job into content, quitting when I’ve got enough followers to start charging $10k a post. This, the current culture tells us, is what success looks like.” But where is the line that tells us that past this point, worrying about content and engagement simply isn’t worth the potential career advancement?
I’m rambling a bit, and I really don’t have answers to any of these questions; but if you’re in the same boat and feeling simultaneously overwhelmed yet underwhelming, this Ask Polly piece on The Cut that I read this afternoon was a much-needed talking to.
Heather Havrilesky makes several good points about how you can never really just transform into a brand new you, saying that “dramatic attempts at becoming a new person tend to end in disappointment. No matter how well you transform your appearance, your behaviors, your talk, and your habits, your old self is still there, feeling a little pissy about being shoved into a closet so your new self can shine. Eventually, the old self crawls back into view. So you talk a little louder, try a little harder, make happier sounds, until you sound anxious and conflicted to everyone you meet.” But what hit home for me was when she dove into her own struggles with balancing both her introverted and extroverted selves. “I used to be ashamed of my shut-in self. I never had trouble owning up to my very extroverted, social self. But I often designed my life around her as if she were the only person there, and neglected the needs of the soft-pants-wearing introvert who didn’t necessarily want to host another party or hang out with friends every night of the week.” It was comforting to hear that someone else got it.
I’m beginning to think we’re all nothing more than walking contradictions fixated on making sense. Sometimes it’s easier to worry about creating new versions of yourself than it is to just sit with the person you are at your core. Or to throw yourself into such a hectic schedule that you never have to worry about balancing your extremes because you’re too exhausted to think straight.
I read a quote a few days ago that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about, and that I feel applies here. “The key to keeping your balance is knowing when you’ve lost it.” Simple, right? I guess I just need a reminder every now and again that while everything feels very big and very messy right now, years or even months from now I’ll look back and laugh at how easily worked up I was. So this evening, I’m on my way to meet my boyfriend at a little Soho wine bar for an almost spur-of-the-moment date night, and I’m going to put my phone in my bag and leave it there. Because sometimes it’s the little things that help steady you when you feel wobbly.