It’s been a while since I wrote on here. Okay, a long time. But quite frankly, I didn’t have anything to say. Or, more likely, the inability to comprehend any of my thoughts into written, coherent sentences. Quite frankly, I still haven’t. So forgive me.
It’s a life of mundanity. Every day, I wake up, fall into my routine, and go back to bed. I don’t go out much. I don’t have many friends. I can’t say my life is terribly exciting.
I have loved ones ask, “how was your day?” to which I can only respond “fine”. It’s in the middle almost all the time. I’m in the middle. It’s not a bad day nor a good day. Just a day but for the sake of saying anything, rather than nothing, I land on the trusted, yet vague word that is “fine”. There’s nothing else to say…
Living alone has become a lesson. I have learned to enjoy my own company. Be alone with my own thoughts. And that took a long time. I recall in high school in college how I was in constant need of stimulation from my peers to feel anything. Learning how to be alone came with emotional hardships. I am proud of my development in emotional independence. Being able to be on my own is an accomplishment for me. There will be days when I go without seeing anyone. And I would be okay. Sure, I also get bored. So, along with that, comes a lot of distraction.
I, my friends, thrive on consistently being distracted. Like shaking keys in front of a baby to get them to stop crying. It’s how I am able to be alone.
And I got comfortable. I got comfortable distracting myself with the romance books, doing my nails, and the inane sitcoms that simply serve as noise. I convinced myself that I deserve it. That I deserve the distraction. There was once a time when my work - writing and painting serves as an escape. For me to put my brain elsewhere and just be. And now, it’s just work. I do the bare minimum. The excuse to say, “I did something today” and move on. But it hasn’t been that escape, that catharsis I used to feel.
It’s like working out. You know you need to do it. And you know when you do it, you’re going to feel great. That dopamine rush. That feeling of your spine straightening as you stand taller. The tense muscles the next day to remind you that you did well. You know that feeling will come. But just to push yourself to get out, put on that overpriced athleisure wear and go to the gym - it’s so much.
I used to blame the depression on my laziness. But genuinely, I just got comfortable with the routine.
A big part of my former inability to be alone came with the debilitating thoughts that would contaminate my head. The anxiety. The uneasiness. The constant questioning. As I got older, I learned to be able to be alone without dragging myself down. At one point, I was under the impression that my mental health was hindering my artistic growth. The depression made me sleepy. The fear of failure pulled me back from trying something new. And as I get older, as I get better, I continue to slowly become at peace with myself. And now, in the abyss of my comfort, I’m still slow in making work.
As an artist, I am fully aware that not one morsel of my long, asinine career is meant to be comfortable.
I blame feminism. I wish that I served my role as a woman and just married a rich man instead of trying to be “independent”. That’s a joke. But I genuinely wonder if I can sit through the rejections, the less than sustainable income, the “your credentials are up to our standards but…” And still work on my personal portfolio and build my own practice. I wish I was one of those hard-working people. One of those who just never stops. Where each breath of inspiration, each moment is utilized in some fashion. Perhaps, in that case, I wouldn’t feel as lethargic. Perhaps, I would be more successful as an artist. But I’m not. I could be. But something inexplicable is holding me back. It once was a case of poor mental health. I don’t even know what to make of it now.
It’s come to the point where even my achievements, which are few and far between, become insignificant and overshadowed by my shortcomings.
So why wouldn’t I want to lean in on comfort?
A friend once told me the most ambitious tend to be the unhappiest. At what point, in my life, will I be content with my career, my personal life, and myself?
Growing up in an Indian household, I was always taught to be ambitious, to be hard-working, and to never stop. And to some extent, I do believe that holds weight. We should strive for more. But while still being content with what we have.
I’m not content with what I have. But I want to be content, regardless of where I am in my life. Because at this rate, I will never be. Right now, I want better-paying jobs, reputable work, and more energy. I want to cook more - preferably healthy food and not just pasta and quesadillas. I want to paint – not just for myself but for income. I want to be smarter and more well-read. I want to write and perform. I want to produce and be someone who people look to. I need to do something every day besides the bare minimum. All of which can be attained. I do sincerely believe that. Whether it will be or not is another question. But it can be. But I don’t have that right now. And something tells me that, if at any point, I do achieve those goals, I am going to want something else, something more. And the cycle will continue.
That sounds exhausting.
And my comfort. My easy everyday routine. The fine days. They all pull me down, pull me away from that ambition. That distraction, shaking the keys in front of me like I am a baby. Maybe, I am not meant to be one of those people who never stop. Maybe no one is.
I’m struggling to find that balance. The balance between striving towards my goals without being burnt out in the process. To dream without being disappointed with my reality.
Being an artist and working as an artist, I realize, have become two separate entities that I must learn how both can coexist with one another.
You are not the only one! A lot people go through this but don't have the courage and skills to put it in words like you did! Every moment, struggle, accomplishments are meant to help you grow and become stronger than before!
It’s amazing how you are able to put your thoughts into words! Loved it! Keep it coming.