Distractions

How do people manage to fill their days?

Sometimes, I feel like there is never enough time to do everything I want to – there are so many options out there. But most of the time, especially these days, I feel like there is nothing for me to do at all. I scroll on IG and watch Netflix, and then shut both off, reminding myself how these are a waste of time. But once I set the phone down, I hardly know what to do with my hands. I don’t feel like reading, or calling anyone up, or doing my language exercises, or working. Everything feels like a distraction, and I’m tired of not living life the way it’s supposed to be lived, whatever that is.

I feel like I’m doing life wrong. As if I’ve missed the memo on how to get along. And this is at a time where my body is largely alright, and my limbs are fine, and my brain is working, and I can do pretty much anything I want to. Except I don’t seem to want to do anything.

So, as per the results of my psych evaluation, there’s nothing really wrong with me. I’m not depressed or bipolar. I don’t have a personality disorder. I’m as normal as it gets, apparently. Then why do I still feel like this, I wonder. Perhaps I really am just an impostor, after all. Milking out sympathy from everyone who seems to care, even though they probably have bigger problems and have gone through worse things than I have. After all, has anything really been wrong with my life so far that makes it more appalling than the average person’s? I don’t think so. I’m just making a fuss about nothing in particular.

Maybe I AM worried about that ticket, after all. I don’t even feel like packing, and spent the whole morning in bed. It seems pointless to get excited about the trip if I’m just gonna be sent back home because of a silly error. That’s just so much I need to go. People are going to be visiting while I’m out of town, which means I need to get the house in order by tonight. The plumber and the water guy still haven’t turned up. I hate having to be in charge of everything. I hate that it’s up to me to get everything in place whenever I travel. I can’t just up and go. I suppose it’s part of the deal in being an adult.

I don’t feel like reading. That’s the one that gets me the most, because reading is supposed to be my support system, my way of calming down and blocking my thoughts. At least, it has been for a while now. Not being able to read feels like I’ve been stripped of a superpower, leaving me weak and vulnerable.

My therapist told me the other day that there are lots of people who live quite happily, and aren’t pulled down by trauma or diffidence. I can vaguely remember being one of those people. But right now it feels incredulous. What is the secret? Is it really just about distracting ourselves?