Do you want me to be honest? I’m sick of being busy. And if I’m even more honest, I don’t think I’m even that busy. I’m an average level of busy. I get up, go to work and come home again. Each week is peppered with something that makes it more interesting — last weekend it was a trip to London, and the week before a mini break in Edinburgh. To be fair, it’s not normally that exciting! A couple of trips to the cinema, a catch up over tea with a friend, or this week it’s my copy of Sunrise on the Reaping which will keep me locked away with my phone off for as long as it takes.
Still, with my busy-ish schedule and ample opportunity for rest, my chest has been tightening with the uneasy feeling that I’m not moving fast enough — like something is chasing me. So, naturally, I looked around and turned on the lights, I checked under the bed and behind the curtain, and nothing is there.
I did some overthinking analysis. I made to-do lists and checked everything off obediently. The feeling stuck like bonfire smoke clinging to a winter coat.
I can’t blame my stress on overtime or never-ending checklists, although they play a part. Instead, it’s emotional obstacles keeping my brain busy.
It’s funny, because usually I am very productive when I’m emotional. I write and write and write until there are no words left unwritten. This time it’s like being stumped. Actually, do you know what it is? Have you ever been to a concert where you’re standing, and then someone really tall stands in front of you and you spend the entire time on your tip toes half-jumping trying to see over the top of their head? That’s what it feels like.
Something I don’t like about growing up is all the things that are out of your control. When you’re a child things are out of your control but it’s okay because you know that when you’re older you’ll be able to take the wheel. Apart from that’s not true - there’s still so much you can’t decide.
And most of the time, because these decisions aren’t ours to make, they take us by surprise, like tiny electric shocks. I hate surprises in general, so when it’s a surprise and a shock just know it’s going to be a very bumpy ride downhill.
It’s rare these days for me to sit in a bubble bath of misery and I truly despise it. Like running a nice hot bath after a long day only to get in and find out that you forgot to turn the immersion on and it’s cold. Yet here I am, submerged in lukewarm water and too heavy to push myself out again.
My imagination loves to predict the future. It shows me images of myself at fifty, in a scruffy green armchair with cats (I’m a dog person) and hair I’ve not brushed, watching Coronation Street (I don’t like soaps), talking about the characters like they’re my best friends, alone, with nobody to call, while everyone I know lives a life that brings them contentment and joy.
I don’t think I’m alone in the fact that my brain gravitates towards making me a victim, believing good things will happen for everyone but me.
A conversation with my Dad enlightened me to the fact that I’ve been sucked into the riptide of thinking too inwardly. “You’re forgetting about the things you can control!” he told me. My Dad, ever the optimist, is a believer that tomorrow could be the best day of your life. And even if it’s not, every day will have a best part. So even when your heart aches with the weight of something you didn’t want to carry, there is always something that can make it feel lighter for a while.
My emotional exhaustion has made me give up writing. “I can’t find the words!” I declare, and my Dad says, “well, you’ve not had a hard time talking to me.” Ella - 0. Dad - 1. “I don’t have time!” I reason, “well, you’ve got time to tell me.” Ella - 0. Dad - 2. Don’t you just hate when someone can see it all from a greater perspective than you can? Really kills the negative energy. Like, how can I complain when you keep giving me reality checks??
When you write a novel, you write it word by word, sentence by sentence. A life is built the same way, moment by moment, day by day, slowly slowly.
There’s not really a point to this piece other than to say that wobbles are there to help build the plot. Without these moments, there’d be no story, would there?
And so I am FORCED to take my own advice. Tragic!
Imperfections are part of life. Having a difficult day doesn’t mean you’re doing things wrong. It doesn’t mean you can’t have the life you’ve always dreamed of. It just means you’re a human whose days don’t all look the same. Remember that it’s all part of the plot. All feelings, positive or negative, are fleeting. Accept them as they come. 90% of life is how we react to what happens to us, no matter how bad things can feel.
NB // Things that help me feel better:
Please share your remedies in the comments <3
Muddy boots: Go and frolic in a field for 30 minutes and then tell me you don’t feel better afterwards.
A good TV show: Anything that makes me laugh. I watched Adolescence and it was phenomenal of course but sent me into a deep hole of stress. Followed it up with Running Point on Netflix and that felt much better, like flipping onto the cool side of the pillow. Also High Potential on Disney+, reminds me of afternoons after school I used to spend watching marathons of Castle on Alibi.
Running Point on Netflix. Don’t take these women off my screen AGAIN. Rainbows: About three weeks before lockdown in 2020 I started a creative writing course that I never got to finish. On each drive to the class I saw a rainbow. Every single one. That’s weird isn’t it? Not just me? So I associate rainbows with that time that I gave something new a chance and with my writing. I saw a rainbow last week and it felt like a good sign.
Car music: After Pilates last week I got in the car and started singing a song and it came on shuffle next. This also felt like a good sign. Maybe when things feel rocky I reach for synchronicities?? I don’t even know if this stuff is real, it’s just comforting when you need it.
Flowers: Every time we’ve seen narcissus in the supermarkets we’ve picked up a bunch because they smell like happiness and there’s only so long we get to enjoy them for so we may as well make the most.
☀️ Sunny Moments:
Tickets to see
talk about her new novel!! What a lovely thing.Nestling down in pyjamas under my heated blanket with the new Hunger Games book. Perfect.
I did yoga outside in the sunshine on Monday. Who do I think I am? Felt extremely righteous about it.
I bought a cardigan at the weekend and it’s the happiest one I own. Nice and chunky and periwinkle blue. It brings out my eyes you say? Stop it!
Watching Running Point - the Brenda Song renaissance is equally as welcome as that of Lindsay Lohan in my eyes. Big yay me moment for all involved.
Also, do you know what I think would be such a sunny moment? One day I’d like a dinner party with all my substack girlies and we can have pasta, freshly squeezed lemonade and then creme brûlée for dessert and have a nice jazzy playlist on in the background and candles and a table runner and talk and talk and talk and talk.
Ella this is SO relatable — Lucy was right. I’ve been feeling overwhelmed and burnt out while also feeling angry and guilty over the fact that I’m don’t have anything horrible or very stressful going on. It’s a hard contradiction and our minds fight it and it reinforces the exhausted cycle.
Personally I’m working on doing one task at a time at work, moving my body (which sucks that it helps haha), and making one plan outside my apartment a week!
Oh and your dad sounds hilarious and lovely.
Substack dinner party!! God that would be the dream.
This was relatable and just 'good' to read after a really busy and overwhelming few weeks myself. Something a friend of mine said to me was to consider that it's easier to add to your plate than take it away, and that's so true with a busy day. I swear my busy days are just 'life' but it's a reminder that I could still be doing less. So, I am doing less! Stretching a task to the next day, rather than cram 84579 things in after work. Relaxing with some TV and just doing that, rather than layer it with hoovering or another household task.