On Vacation from Myself

Archived from Aug 17, 2023:

I walk home from my second job with a variation of music and podcasts. Loud music, which could aptly be described as abrasive, is my usual go to when my attention span is scattered; thoughts run rampant, never finishing, fraying like rope until the threads of where I thought I was headed have become unwound from one another, seemingly impossible to reunite. On days I feel more focused, I opt for podcasts. A mix of horror, sci-fi and non-fiction, I find my pace picks up, my eyes wander, my face betrays the type of podcast and the frayed edges of my thoughts don’t coalesce so much as gently drift away.

When I get home to make dinner and tidy, it’s a similar story. Podcasts and music are my most common form of company, with the notable exception of Kafka, of course. Dinner is frequently accompanied by a podcast or some sort of long form video essay, and every so often a show. I like having a craft to do to keep my hands occupied when watching shows, lest the doomscroll win. I read, I play video games, I scroll, I listen to something, I watch something, repeat. At the gym, on a walk, doing laundry, when falling asleep. I am not very good at being alone with my thoughts. There are times in my life when it is easier, and lately has certainly not been one of those times.

Everyone has their ways of getting out of their heads. Physical tasks and crafts like painting, sewing or cooking; there is something so gratifying about a material product at the end of focusing, whether it be big or small. Tangible proof that an effort was made, that a task was completed, and sometimes even that the ever elusive flow state was found. I’m also fond of games and puzzles. TTRPGs like Dungeons and Dragons can be particularly effective forms of escape, particularly when played with a group of people all intent on immersion. Not only do these games allow you to explore a world with events and powers far outside our own, but they also give room to play with characteristics and personalities in ways rarely afforded in every day life. More traditional games of cards and pieces allow for the world to fade into the background while strategies and tactics are sought and tested, won and bested. While all these things could easily be called various forms of escapism, they are also foundational to the joy of being alive. They are things humans have been doing for thousands of years, they are tools for creating community, bonds and empathy. They work so well, because they not only momentarily alleviate the burdens of the world, but because over the course of building relationships and community, you will come to realise the weight is no longer yours alone, it is being shouldered collectively.

For the last few months I’ve been averaging about 60 hour work weeks, with one day off a week most of the time. I knew what I was getting into and while I know it won’t last forever, it certainly has been taking it’s toll. I find myself disappointed in my particular forms of escapism. Between work, home maintenance, trying to maintain a regular amount of physical activity and not letting socializing fall to the wayside, as much as I may want it to, my energy levels have been lacklustre to say the least. This has made this weekly writing more of a chore than a project as of late. There was a hope that forcing my way through would spark something in me, but alas, I mostly find my mind loud, yet blank. The frayed edges never seem to come back together into something coherent, let alone interesting or well written. I find myself too tired for most things and immensely disappointed in the things I do make time for, writing and otherwise. The never ending list of laundry, dishes, groceries and tidying has to supersede almost any urge to paint or write or much of anything it seems. Despite this lack of energy and time, there is still a persistent feeling of wanting more. It is deep and intense, cloying and cruel. It is a desire for rest; meaningful, good rest not tainted by my never ending list of things that need to be done or could have been done better. It is a desire for a world I am not too afraid or tired to think about it. It is a need for something fulfilling, for some sense of meaning or purpose beyond pointless projects and an even more pointless “career”. I am stagnant and stuck and simply too run down to do much about it. Yet, stuck or not, the time rushes ever forward, dragging me along and leaving me behind all at once. A paradox for the exhausted, I suppose.

Thank you, as always, for being here friends. I didn’t expect for these to take a more personal turn, yet here we are. Apologies, particularly if this isn’t what you feel like you signed up for. My hope is some time off and catching up on life will grant me some inspiration and tenacity to get back to writing about things more important than my own poor sleep schedule. I am in a wedding party next week, and will be extremely busy. I’m hoping to have something short out, probably just another news round up, but who knows, perhaps inspiration will finally grace me with her presence again.