Tranquility Through Action

Still in my blogging novitiate, I realize I have struggled to maintain a decent upkeep (nor can I figure out the damned Gravatar nonsense…how the heck do I follow the few and the lovely who have dared to follow me so early on?).  This night, however, demanded a space to spread out my worries and fears in word-form, though I apologize in advance for the humbled stance I am about to take; I do not propose to offer any worthy insight or opinion, but simply need to un-junk my mind a bit before bedtime.

Let’s not beat around the bush: I am SAD.  Not to brag, but I have it all:

  • Hopelessness
  • Increased appetite with weight gain
  • Increased sleep
  • Less energy and ability to concentrate
  • Loss of interest in work or other activities
  • Sluggish movements
  • Social withdrawal
  • Unhappiness and irritability

Hopelessness.  The first on the list, and just the word that meandered into my head today.  I feel hopeless, generally, but have had that feeling exacerbated by the first graduate school rejection I received the other day.  There is nothing to do but wait for the rest of the notifications, which I fear will be the same.  Until then, I can’t apply to any full-time positions or restart the grad school application process.  Waiting kills.

Graduate School Blues

Likewise, I can’t concentrate on building my writing portfolio because I’m too depressed to focus, and too distracted by my worrying to commit to any creative project for more than a few minutes at a time–a generous estimation in itself.  Plus, I’ve become a recluse, another facet of this awful funk I’ve gotten myself into, again, exacerbated by the unrelenting bite of winter.  How can I occupy myself with friends and engaging activities when I can’t even leave my house?

Today, I literally did nothing, and by noontime I could feel my eyes closing with a centuries-old tiredness, later complaining to my coworkers of my exhaustion (during a three-hour shift, to women who work full-time AND have the strain joy of children piled atop their day-to-day requisite mundanities).  And it is safe to say I have been categorically unhappy and irritable to anyone who dares to offer me a kind, or even civil, slice of small talk.

To top it all off, for the past few weeks I have been carrying around the most unattractive paunch, very spare-tire-esque.  I can’t shake it (well….), and worst is, my depression and boredom only makes me turn to food and drink more.  And strangely enough, I mentioned all these things, including how late I’ve been sleeping in compared to my usual early-bird circadian rhythm, to my coworkers today, and just looked up that list of SAD symptoms a moment ago.  I should probably become a psychotherapist.  (Already halfway there!)

Now that I’ve laid it all out, it should be a cinch to combat.  Right?

I will find the peace I need simply by doing…anything.  The kicker is, I have to somehow summon up that energy from out of the depths of my lugubriousness.

Thus manifests the challenge I face now.  My resolution for this was to make up a to-do list every day, so that I’d have a concrete measure of focus and feel accomplished if I could cross off even a single item.  As my coworker so wisely informed me, I will not have the luxury of boredom in the near future if things work out for me in the end, and so I should use this opportunity to do now the things I’ll want to do then but will not have time for.  Simple things: sorting through and scrap-booking the pictures from my trip to Europe, cleaning out my closet, drawing (for these last two, see my previous blog, New Year), etc. I sincerely should be using this down-time to generate new written work but that might be too much to ask of my cluttered mind right now, so the lighter fare will have to do.  Once I achieve that inner peace, my brain should unclog and the writing should flow more naturally.

To-do: Meditate.