6am thoughts
Well, here we are. Still.
I won’t even bother trying to figure out what day of quarantine we’re in. All I know is that it is 6:19AM and I don’t know why I’m awake. I’ve been up since 3:30 and boy have I done a lot!
I read a few chapters of a new book, did sunrise yoga on my rooftop, I even wrote in my planner when I wanted to get done this week. And still nobody is up yet!
I can’t say I mind the quiet. When nobody is awake it’s kind of nice to sit with your thoughts. For example, at ~4AM I had the following:
Ask my sister for that dress Mom gave me back. I really want that frickin’ dress back.
Make a Tik Tok about my book, maybe even read a page or two out loud.
This is the kind of random thinking that only occurs at this hour, when all I want is to fall back into a REM cycle and not be among the land of the living. But that got me thinking (obviously), that maybe this is the first time I’ve really been this quiet with myself in a while.
Don’t get me wrong, I’ve done a LOT of pondering since the lockdown. But it’s always buzzing with so much noise; the news cycle, work demands, roommates running the blender. I can’t say I really hear my thoughts as much these days. But this morning I really did.
And those thoughts told me that I’ve been trying really hard to keep it all together. Keeping productive at work, feeding myself properly, getting more than five steps in a day to keep my thighs from expanding. I’ve been putting a lot of pressure on myself lately to “get this quarantine right” as if there were ever a “right” way to deal with a global pandemic.
Part of me (a large part) wants to be done with this whole thing and pick back up where I left off: applying to TED Talks, writing a TV pilot, and making big plans for my one-woman show. Another portion, maybe 30% or so, feels that this is a lost cause. That maybe it’s time to grieve these things because they don’t exist in the world we live in right now.
And then there’s the remaining chunk of my being that craves something else. Something new. I wish I could tell you what this feeling is, but I don’t even have the vocabulary for it really. All I know is that I have moments of pause where I close my eyes and just want more. Of what, again, I have no idea. But I just want more.
Maybe it’s more options. In Ilana’s latest (and viral!) post about her fear of flying she talked about being stripped of control. When you’re 30,000 feet up in the air in a metal tube moving 500 miles an hour there’s pretty much not a damn thing you can do about anything, except, that is, order an alcoholic beverage at 9AM. Ahhhhh, so that’s why they let you drink on the plane!
As she put it, this is a lot like that. We’re all feeling really uncomfortable at our lack of options, control, and just basic normalcy. Yesterday my roommate mentioned how much she missed our favorite Trader Joe’s dessert and I almost broke into tears.
I know I’ve felt this way before. In my first book I talked a lot about what it was like being diagnosed with a somewhat rare brain injury and having to spend months at home, unsure of what was going to happen next. A lot of similar feelings emerged during that “quarantine.” Anger, boredom, bingeing, weight issues, excess naps.
I’m like an ol’ pro! If anyone knows how to sit around the house for months on end, it’s this gal!
It doesn’t mean I like it, I’m just saying it’s familiar, and sometimes that scares me. Because the first time around I had to write a whole dang book to put my feelings in. There were so many feelings. They were uncomfortable and a bit loud (think of a car alarm) and because I was spending so much time alone, and awake at odd hours of the morning, I had to actually address all those thoughts ping-ponging around my noggin’. I had to turn the car alarm off.
I think this is why people go to therapy usually, but I (somehow) didn’t think about going at the time.
Well, I’m going once a week now. And yes, book number two is on the way 😉
