Over and under

Dear Internet,

It’s been four months since my last confession, er, blog.

I don’t know about you, but I’ve been mentally and physically hibernating because, lately, everything is just too much for me.

I spent the last half of 2016 feeling overwhelmed. Like I’m shouldering a rucksack full of bricks, standing in quicksand up to my neck. And just when I think I’m starting to pull myself up onto solid ground, something else pulls me under.

The main reason for my overwhelm-itude has been my insane workload, a problem admittedly of my own making. And, as a self-employed media consultant, it’s kind of selfish to even call it a problem.

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Just like the car mechanic who drives a clunker, the builder whose own home is falling apart or the accountant whose personal finances are in the red, this writer has been attending to everyone’s communication needs but her own. I’ll bust my ass to tell your story, but I can’t seem to make time to share my own. Or something like that.

Anyhoo … turns out I’ve been burning the candle at both ends for so long, there’s no more candle, just a Jabba-esque glob of wax smothered in soot.

THIS is what burnout looks like, people — a harried shell of a woman who used to work out regularly and socialize occasionally but now can’t manage to make it out of pajama pants into yoga pants most days.

(I should clarify that I work from home, so this is not a sign of depression. I’m also not too lazy to get dressed; I’m too fucking busy).

Round about December, I declared no mas, and decided 2017 would be different. I have succeeded, slowly but surely, in decreasing my workload to a steady but manageable level. Well, mostly. I even gave myself time off at the holidays. I’m hopeful I may actually have enough energy by next month to go out into the world again instead of heading straight to the couch and Netflix after work.

So, you’d think I would be feeling a little relief at this point, right? As if.

You might recall a little something called “The Election.” In the months leading up to it, I thought I was going to have to blow up my computer. So much ugliness on all sides.  The vitriol hurling back and forth was worse than any sports rivalry I’ve ever seen, and I live in Kentucky.

I’m not going to turn this into a political post, because I don’t talk politics publicly. Ever. I do not engage in any of the rhetoric online because everyone seems to be yelling so loudly they wouldn’t hear me anyway. This is a classic example of happy vs. right. Most folks would clearly rather be right, while I just want to be happy.

It really would have been nice to have a 5-minute break AFTER said election, but if anything, it has gotten worse. More screaming, more nastiness — by both the winners and the losers. And unfortunately, I can’t take a break from social media to re-calibrate my universe because I do it for a living.

Every day, there is some new horror in the news — either something reprehensible a politician has done, said, or threatened to do, or something equally reprehensible that politician’s opposition is saying or doing. Then there are those who support the politicians, or use them as an excuse for bad behavior. Sure, there’s good stuff in there, too, but not nearly enough to drown out the noise. Sheesh.

And please don’t get me started on actual atrocities like hate crimes and assaults against women. No amount of cute puppy memes can erase those words and images.

I heard someone on NPR the other day talking about “scandal fatigue.” People get burned out by shocking and sensationalized news and eventually become numb to it.

What about bullshit fatigue? Is that a thing? Because I’m pretty sure I have it.   

I am overwhelmed not only by the sheer volume of feces flinging, but the feeling of helplessness it leaves behind. I want it to stop, but it is not in my power to make it stop, even for a moment.

Being worn out by today’s political climate does not mean I don’t care about what’s happening in our country and the world. If anything, I care too much.

Just like when I made a conscious choice to change my work situation because it was weighing me down, I have got to do something different so I can stop feeling quite so small in this big world.

I will probably never be someone who stands at the front of a protest with a huge sign. I’m an introvert, after all. But I’m beginning to realize I don’t have to.

A good friend recently asked me to participate in a project that will give voice to widespread concerns in a creative space. I am honored to help be an organizer behind the scenes, whatever form it takes. Just saying yes to the first meeting feels like a few of the bricks on my back have been lifted.

I also plan to incorporate more small acts of kindness into my daily living (which will also be a catalyst to get me out of the house, a win for all). I try to be a good person, but there is always more I can do.

So heads up — if someone pays for your order at the drive through, or you get an anonymous card with words of encouragement, it might have been me.

Underwhelming? Maybe, as far as the impact I’ll be making on the world. At first. But I have a good feeling that moving my own needle away from overwhelmed to the other side will make a big difference in the long run.

Here’s hoping.