I think I’m burnt out. Wow. Super surprising. The real question, is what the fuck am I burnt out on?
In the past few weeks, I’ve tried to look at every area of my life and take a break from what I can. My coworkers graciously picked up my slack at work for a few days, though I know my productivity since coming back has suffered. It’s so hard to focus. I can usually wake up after a good night’s sleep, 8 hours or more, and then by the time I walk to my office, the dread has set in.
Nature helps somewhat. I’ll make a move outdoors and I can feel somewhat rejuvenated, but the feeling is fleeting. I’ve tried visiting friends and family and again, I get that same temporary satisfaction of human contact, but then I have to retreat home to my cutout in the uptown skyline.
Pair that with the complete and total dietary failure and it just feels worse. I can’t help but dive into this self sabotage headfirst; concern for my future self thrown to the wind in search of momentary satisfaction.
And then the pity party afterwards. The catharsis of complaining to myself and to others. Synapses of satisfaction firing for a brief moment before they power down for another solitary serenade. It feels freeing to bitch and complain to the 3 people who I know will read this; some possessing real power to drastically alter my life, for better and worse.
I don’t know what to do. I
probably definitely need a therapist, but the looming of Covid-Part-2 Electric Boogaloo has kept me away from professionals and amateurs alike. Instead I have you.
Thanks for listening, but I don’t blame you for leaving my sorry ass alone either.