It’s just a stupid boulder.
I had a choice:
A. I stay in bed and fester on these thoughts and let them spiral into some ‘poor me’ bullshit.
B. Do something productive.
Needless to say, I have been uninspired, burnt out, and, unfortunately, lacking optimism.
I’ve been thinking a lot about everything recently, and I realised I have been spending too much time indoors, too much time online, too much time in my head, only to have found myself with no time at all.
Maybe this makes me a little insane, but I do believe in signs, and little by little, those signs telling me things needed to change added up to be billboards. Yet I continued to drive by them, letting them leave my mind as quickly as they entered.
Because you see, I had to leave room for all the negativity, hatred, and violence the media kept shoving down my throat. Who has time for happy thoughts anyway?
So I kept chugging along, and on and on and on until I got sick for what seems like the billionth time this year, and though it is cold and flu season and coming into spring, hayfever comes with it like a trusty little sidekick. Yet, I was beginning to get a little suspicious that my body got sick whenever I encountered high-stress situations.
But I was pissed, because why did I get sick on my only days off, and I was bedridden for 4 days. Today marked the 5th day, and I realised… nothing had really been any different other than me having a fever, blocked nose, and slightly shitter attitude. I hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary.
Then I started thinking some more. I concluded that I had some sort of functioning depression*, so I had not taken it as seriously as previous bouts of depression I have experienced in my time, because I was technically fine and it wasn’t as bad as the past, and I could still go to work, and uni and fullfill my social responsibilities…so naturally to me that meant it mattered less?? Yet I began to wonder, when did I become so tired of my life that I spent my free time sleeping and doomscrolling? When and where did my optimism go? Along with my general zest for life.
Mere months ago, I spent each weekend exploring new places, new cafes, and actively seeking things to do and people to see, running and working tirelessly (yet happily) to better myself and my mental well-being. When did I stop enjoying my life? When did I stop writing this blog? All of these questions started brewing in my head. And for the first time in a long time, I made a decision that would greatly inspire me. A butterfly effect of sorts.
I had a choice:
A. I stay in bed and fester on these thoughts and let them spiral into some ‘poor me’ bullshit.
B. Do something productive.
I chose B. If anyone was wondering… which led me to take a walk, which led me to realise how out of shape I’d gotten, which led me to start thinking about how to get back in shape, which led me to think about what had gotten me out of shape*, which led me to thinking about who and what inspired me to get in shape in the first place which led to me… well you get the jist. A lot of things led to another thought and then another, and so on.
So I started thinking about the person I am, the person I want to be, and the future I want, and by the time I arrived at my doorstep, I knew something had shifted. Suddenly, the optimism I had greatly missed and lacked over recent months greeted me like a warm hug from a close mate you hadn’t seen in a while.
And the decision of going for a walk instead of tossing and turning in bed allowed more positive actions to follow, which I have faith will lead to a greater change over time. I cleaned my room, and I wrote a journal entry. I laid out my clothes for tomorrow, organised with a friend to go for a walk in the morning—partly to keep me accountable, and continue down the path of positive reinforcement that I want to do good, do better. In cleaning my room, I felt more relaxed, and to keep the good vibes going, I stayed off my phone, picked up a book that I KNOW gets me fired up and excited about small changes, and then I tackled the most daunting task of all… replying to all my unopened messages that have been sitting there gathering dust like the rest of the things I told myself I’d ‘get to later’.
Where my sibling had sent me some poems they’d written, and reading one in particular titled: Sisyphus.
It was beautiful, and it made me teary-eyed, but it got me thinking about the story of Sisyphus, and the relentless effort we go through just to live life. Despite this, there is beauty, there is pain, there is acceptance, there is adaptability, there is meaning, there is a drive, and motivators that keep us going even if there is no tangible reward or finish line to cross.
So, in honour of moving forward and getting through this seemingly never-ending episode of life, I think I have pushed the boulder so many times that I have found the enjoyment in pushing the boulder again, or at least beginning to. Each day, the boulder will be weighted with a different challenge or adversity, and yet I will get it to the top.
I don’t necessarily have a conclusion for this blog, nor a particular point I want you to stew on as I have in the past. I suppose the purpose of this blog is to just tell you to keep on going, to keep pushing that boulder up the hill over and over again, but just know you won't always have the strength to push it up in one day, one week, or even over many months, and that you can enjoy the moment when it does eventually get to the top, and accept that it will come back down and the boulder might be made out of something completely different the next time around, but it doesn’t mean that you can’t push it to the top again.
So with that, I cannot confidently say I am back to writing regularly, though this blog—despite it all has not been far from my mind, so I believe that if I continue down the path I found myself on today outsidemyjournal.com and YOU will, in fact, be hearing more from me.
*Functioning depression is classified as a persistent low mood, fatigue, and anhedonia (loss of pleasure), even while outwardly appearing successful or productive. Other symptoms can manifest as difficulty concentrating, irritability, guilt, sleep or appetite changes, and low self-esteem, but the person manages to fulfill daily obligations.
*When I say ‘in-shape’, I am not purely referring to fitness, but my overall well-being and quality of life.
