I wish I could report my life has changed dramatically since the pandemic. Alas, I cannot. I still see basically no one, I still spend most of my time playing games instead of hobbies I find more fulfilling, I still go to bed far too late. The difference now is the possibility that "I can always get out there and get a life!" has evaporated while COVID-19 is still community spreading. I miss that long-held hope. And also coffee shops. I miss coffee shops.
This is not to say I am without options for improving my life and my discipline. Although a generalized fear of dying in agony while I struggle to breathe has not been providing a GREAT mental space to do that. Still, I could at least be doing the work. Hell, I could at least be READING which I miss tremendously. I miss my voracious reader self.
I'm chatting with people on the dating apps, even though there's zero chance I want to meet anyone new in person for the foreseeable future. But lock-down has only further emphasized my complete and utter failures to find companionship and community in Portland before all this hit so I find myself more inclined to reach out, at least a little.
Still, it's stupid to find myself quite this alone for, looking back at my decisions, no good reason. And yet, I have no clear idea how to turn things around. There are very specific things I could do to improve my personal habits, but it still doesn't help me know where to start looking for my community or purpose. I would settle for one or the other at this point.
This isn't a good track I'm on, and there's been nothing like a genuine public health emergency to highlight that. The number of people who have checked in during all this bullshit is not zero, but distressingly low. Not that I don't appreciate them, not that I haven't reached out myself ... but my inability to make connections since I moved to portland has been ... bad? Pretty bad. I don't love it.
Hard to make connections when you're at war with yourself though. And I think I am still at war with myself. I do not like this version of me but I don't have a clear idea of the version of me I want to be. Not many models of how to thrive in this, the misery-soaked world we have created that appeal to me in particular. Regardless, I don't know who I am or where I belong or where exactly to look.
Nonetheless, the problem is not loneliness per se, it is not knowing who I am in the world. It is hard to relate to people when you don't know who you are.
"What are you into?"
"I don't know."
"What do you hope for?"
"I don't know."
"What are you working on?"
"I don't know."
Hard to relate when you're kind of a blank slate, you know?
That said, every day is another chance to change direction. I tell myself that every day as I put on my mask to get groceries, hoping this week isn't the week I die because I needed some milk.
