More often than not, I tend to give up on tasks to be done, or on public resolutions I make when I’m not in my right mind. It is now almost a year to the day when I said to myself, “Hey, I should participate in this Postaweek challenge! It sounds easy enough – publish one post, every week, for 52 weeks in 2018.” Never mind how easy it is to be tempted into not doing that, or how busy I was at certain points throughout the year. Never mind the occasional 5-month gap between posts.
Creating a writing habit/ritual is something I’ve ‘advised’ people to do, both in real life and on this blog, more times than I can keep track of. What does it say about me when I myself do not have the habit set up? I started 2018 with high hopes. I was sold on the concept of Postaweek. I had a Trello board filled with ideas and possible topics for writing on. I even had a widget declaring I was a ‘Postaweek blogger’. And I failed. No surprise there. It’s too hard to write and it’s too easy to give up and do something else.
A lot of things happened in 2018. Some good, some bad. You know, the usual mixed bag. But the worst thing about 2018 was just how out of it I was. Most days, I did not have the strength to do anything. I never had the strength to do anything. I could not read, I could not write, I was barely functioning most of the time. There were days when I could not get myself out of the bed in the morning because I was angry at my lungs for not having given up in the middle of the night. Every single day was bleak and there was not a day when I wasn’t reminded of how useless everything I am doing is. Time never passed, but I also felt like whatever time I had left was quickly slipping away between my fingers, and I had so much left to do. It wasn’t a reluctance to do any of this or suicidal tendencies, but a kind of indifference to everything. The mere futility of my actions was a weight that was too much to bear at times. Why should I care enough to read or write or do any of the dozens of things I have to do when none of this matters?
I could say I was depressed, or going through a real existential crisis, or having a mental breakdown, but I am not qualified so I won’t diagnose myself. I think the real ‘culprit’ is a lack of meaning in my life. There is no grand path set that I have to follow, no grand plan that I have to live by. My life is as random as the Universe will allow it to be, and I crave a semblance of order and meaning in it. My mind is simultaneously paralysed by the smallness of my life in relation to the Universe, how my own life has no future and how I won’t have a planet to live in, in 20 years.
All this is quite depressing, even for me, so let’s move on to something else that grinds my gears equally well: resolutions. Specifically, my failed attempts at resolutions. Like most of the general population, I cannot stick to resolutions for more than two weeks. Knowing this, I tend to temper my often lofty goals. In 2018, though, I had just one goal: write more than I did in 2017, get more views on my posts than I did in 2017. But I’m so used to failing at resolutions that I’m laughing at myself right now for having zero self-awareness.
We live in a wild world in that we are often faced with conflicting advice online. There are people who tell you not to share your goals with others. There are people who advocate sharing your goals and progress as a way to keep you accountable. I’ve tried both methods and failed. Spectacularly. Neither method seems to be working for me, so here’s what I’ll be doing for 2019. I’ll do “stuff”. If it sticks, you’ll get to hear about it, if it doesn’t you won’t. I know I’ll do the things that really matter, so I feel this isn’t an escape of any sorts.
Reading the draft for this post, I realized I’d been rambling on from topic to topic, without making any sense. I also noticed what seemed to be an irregularly high number of italicised words. My first thought was to include a footnote apologizing for them, but I won’t. This post isn’t me apologizing for being absent and not posting. This post isn’t me explaining what happened. This post just is. The world is in a grim, dark place right now and there are more pressing matters to attend to than a few overused italics. Here’s to a “better” 2019.