I've been mildly, hopelessly, miserable lately. It could be that I haven't been significantly mentally stimulated for the past little while. My solution thus far has been to force the matter into a pool of self improvement. Every day for the past month or so I've been writing in my journal, playing an instrument, exercising, and sketching. I should feel pretty proud of myself, but to be honest the journal entries are perfunctory, the sketches are lazy, and the music is scarcely more than a few plunks on a few chords. They're my end-of-day chores that I do to most uninspired of capacities.
It's having the opposite effect to what I had in mind. I'm losing more and more faith in myself as I look at the (lack of) results. There's no sense of self and a conspicuous absence of improvement. It's all rather disheartening.
I'm a big fan of delayed gratification. That's no secret. So usually at the end of the work day I unwind by putzing around online, doing some gaming, and watching whatever videos catch my attention. But you see, I don't really actually enjoy much of any of that. It's like being led along by the carrot, except the carrot is just a rock. Once I get my hands on it, and at the end of each day I always do, I find myself thinking, "Wait, what is all the fuss about?" An abundance of attention, but a void of intention. It's become distraction for distraction's sake.
Part of this could be my lack of mental/intellectual stimulation during the day. My girlfriend is a good example: I could never understand how she can spend the entire evening just vegging out with iPad games and crap TV. I do freelance! I work on my car! I work on sorting out an estate! The catch, though, is that during her work day she's doing big-brained things that she gets a lot of satisfaction from. And once she's done, she's satisfied by taking it easy with some mindless entertainment.
Meanwhile, I spend most of my work day mentally checked out so that I can complete what gets passed across my desk to meet the low standards and small expectations. Then I do some simple freelance or whatever, which helps me make up for a lackluster salary. No one wants something new or challenging; they're paying me to make something that looks passable and can be turned around quickly. After that, I try to unwind and check out with internet/videos/games. But it turns out that I've already been checked out since I sat down at my desk first thing in the morning. Which raises the unfortunate question... when was the last time I was checked in? Hell, when was the last time I was even in the building.
It's not surprising that I can't find enjoyment or satisfaction from anything.
And so for the next two weeks, my therapist has challenged me to cut out games, videos, and internets from my mindless repertoire. Oof. Take those away, and what else do I have? Sleep. It makes me want to give up and go to sleep. Almost like a toddler; once my favourite toys are taken away I just want to pout and hide away.
So things are going to get interesting. I can start reading all the things to occupy myself. I can delve even harder into my extra-curricular professional tasks. Or maybe I can write, draw, exercise, and play music like I actually mean it. The question is whether or not I can jump from the Chore tracks, clean over Mere Distraction, and onto the Actual Hobby line. That's a big ask for a freight train of mindless productivity like me.
Here's hoping.
-Cril
When I wake up
Someone will sweep up my lazy bones
And we will rise in the cool of the evening
I remember the way that you smiled
When the gravity shackles were wild
And something is vacant
When I think it's all beginning
I been drifting along
In the same stale shoes
Loose ends tyin' a noose
In the back of my mind
If you thought that you were making your way
To where the puzzles and pagans lay
I'll put it together
It's a strange invitation
Beck - Jack-Ass
