As I drove home from yoga with a bit of a clearer mind, I thought about all of the ways I had tried to "get over" the pandemic in the past 2 years. All of the ways I tried to calm my central nervous system down from panicking. Initially, the only consistent thing for me in covid was unemployment and my weekly run to the beer store. When you are facing mortality in such a blatant way, how could we not all want to drink ourselves into oblivion? While wondering if you would live or die, if the people you love would live or die - that shit is heavy and alcohol dulls the panic. The beer run was the closest semblance of normalcy I had, something to make me feel almost "whimsical" for being able to focus on something as trivial as having blue moons in my fridge at all times.
But that version of me was alive and well before the pandemic. The "What's the point of trying?" me. That lets myself have destructive habits and tendencies, that doesn't want to do things to better myself because it seems so pointless. I am realizing that this peaked during covid, and for 2 years I have been crawling my way back to giving a shit about myself and my life again.
During meditation what came to mind was "I was looking everywhere for distraction, but what I really needed was to connect with myself."
"Post" covid, it seemed like the right thing to do was try to make up for lost time. Try to do everything and see people as much as possible. But I realize that isn't what I want at all. I truly do enjoy doing less. My energy can be drained so easily by the overstimulation the world brings, the energy vampires; what is truly healthiest for me is taking time for myself. Even when it is hard to simply be alone with myself, face myself, sans drugs or alcohol or benzos.
It feels shameful that a boy breaking up with me is what jump-started my most recent pursuit of wellness. But if I reflect on my life thus far, most of the times, unfortunately, the worst things are what have snapped me out of myself and forced me to care about my life. In a way, I am thankful that when I feel as though I am about to hit the bottom, I try. But I don't want it to always be like that. I want to be consistent for myself, to take care of myself. To not let it get to this dire place where I realize I've just been ignoring the things giving me anxiety and avoiding the feelings that make me depressed. What I truly want for myself is just to embrace it all.
For the past month, I have been trying, but in a way that doesn't feel forced and isn't motivated by guilt. I want to be better, for whatever happens in my life, good or bad. I want to be better for the people I love. But above all - I want to be better for me. I love myself even when I don't believe it. Even when I feel mediocre and uninteresting and destined for nothing special. I don't want to let cynicism be my leading trait. I want to believe in good things, and not feel like a fool for doing so. It isn't fair to just be negative to try and beat life to the punch. It is just a recipe for being miserable.
So obviously this pandemic has changed us as a society, and even though it caused a deep amount of anxiety and pain for me and obviously the world - I feel as though it has helped me connect with my true values. And I want to hold onto that. And while it's always going to be in the back of my mind, wondering when the next virus will come or if covid will just endlessly evolve for eternity...I want to give myself permission to live my life. The way I want to live it.
My dreams are still alive and well. I just need to give them the time and attention they deserve.
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