Hello, lovelies! (Channeling all of the British pleasantries from shows I’ve been watching on Netflix and YouTube.) In my last entry, I recognized my struggle with control, uncertainty, and fear, and was trying to relinquish it all, because none of those things are positively impactful. I believe that the perspective one puts on something is how enjoyable or unfavorable a situation can really be. But sometimes, it is hard to dig up the right kind of perspective.
And that’s kind of where I was 5 weeks later.
With every passing day of, seemingly, an unchanged scenario, I felt less optimistic and more defeated. Especially, after throwing in some hours spent on job submissions that have not yielded favorable results. I mean, duh… maybe lower your expectations on that one, Kat.
For being such a logical person, I don’t know how I allow my emotions to get the better of me.
I have spent the past week+ with a weight on my shoulders. It’s the same one I had when the quarantine first started: suspended where I don’t feel I’m supposed to be.
I know I can’t control the situation, but I feel this discordance nonetheless. To try to remedy the new onslaught of discomfort, I searched for things to make myself feel better.
One day, I drove 20 minutes to a café where I used to hang, got my favorite drink to-go and then spent a few hours at a friend’s house. Another day, I went for a walk at The Menil with the same friend, then picked up a boba tea to-go from a favorite teahouse. Another day, I dragged him to Trader Joe’s where we spent most of our grocery experience waiting in lines for 40 minutes so I could buy cheap wine and beer (worth it). The idea behind all of this was to give myself a taste of my former routine – a little dose of socializing in the flesh and things I hadn’t done since the quarantine began (except for buying beer and wine – definitely had done that a few times). When those didn’t leave lasting impressions, I pulled out an old project I was excited to finish thinking I just needed to focus on creating. The truth is, I quickly became disengaged in my project. I worked on it to the finish line, but I didn’t feel good as I worked or very accomplished when it was done.
And that is just about the worst: feeling crappy while creating.
I’ve been questioning the same things every time I feel shitty, since the reality of the quarantine sunk in, trying to uncover a missing piece. So, that started up again after the project.
Why is this happening? Why am I stuck in Houston in my childhood home? Why am I in this uncomfortable situation? Why haven’t I found the job I want? What happened to all of the good vibes and intuition I felt in January? What am I supposed to do with this? What am I gaining from this situation?
Stop.
The latter, my lovelies, that’s the winning question.
My brain, in its mixed battle of anxiety and resolution-seeking, moves faster than I can blink, and it realized it was onto something. Instantaneously, the revelations piled up.
I suddenly realized I’ve been viewing this inconvenience in my life as a loss.
A loss of things like, money, time and opportunity. And in turn, these losses have made me feel like I’m failing. This perception possibly stands for a lot of people out there, especially, financially. I hope you know that you are not failing, no matter how much it feels like it. Ask yourself to see the other side.
When I asked myself again, what am I gaining from this situation, I thought about my family. I haven’t spent so much consecutive time with them since before I officially left home when I was 20. We aren’t a picture-perfect bunch, and we’ve had our differences, but we take care of each other.
As I dug deeper, I wondered if I what I need in this moment is to be cared for after doing so much independently the past 2 years. I wondered if I’ve gained all of this time with them because it’s the last chance I’ll have it.
With this in mind, it’s easier for me to let go of the perception of defeat and loss, the worry of not having what I desire right now, and to stop resisting the flow of what’s happening around me.
I mean, I’m still worried and still feel a bit trapped. I am Kat, afterall. But I feel better. I feel better seeing the gains. And it only took me… 5 weeks… but that’s better than 6, no?