I cannot find a place in myself that has the energy and motivation to do anything. I’m doing only the bare essentials, dragging my feet on anything else.
If I have a full workload, I can make myself do it. The sheer pressure of the expectation and remnants of a sense of pride in a job done well pull me through.
But I’m not busy at the moment. There is not pressure to perform. And my default has become streaming TV and grazing on crap. I lost 32kg in 2019 and I’ve gained 10kg. I don’t know why I eat, it’s not like I enjoy it. It’s like filling holes, trying to fill myself up.
My self talk has never been particularly healthy, but has gone downhill in a hurry.
If I’m not working, I’m on the couch. I’m not writing. I’m not moving.
I can’t face a routine. I fight it.
I’m afraid of how few years I have left, and instead of somehow making the best of what I’ve got or challenging myself to really embrace these next few years, I’ve already stopped. Like, what’s the point?
Every night, as I fall asleep, I wonder if this is the night I’ll die of a heart attack, which I guess is one of the better ways to go. Dying in your sleep.
I’m browsing online articles / studies on middle-aged women (late-middle aged women) and a couple of the phrases that connect are ‘frustrated goal attainment‘ ‘depressed mood, negative appraisal of aging changes‘.
One of the more positive articles expresses ‘Healthy aging is happy aging‘ and that’s where I need to find myself. My husband is four years younger than me and a professional working man, who loves his job. So, he gets ongoing enjoyment and positive feedback in his life. It would be easy for him to ‘get over me and my negative attitude’. I wouldn’t blame him, but that adds another fear to my list.
(The top part of this post has been sitting in drafts since July. It is now September, and not a lot has changed!).
I am not a friend to myself. I’m now grasping at the positives, while wallowing in quiet misery. I hesitate to post this, because I don’t want to be all negative. It is not a cry for help, just me talking out loud about my reality.
Some positives are:
- In August I attended a writer’s conference in Perth, which has ‘inspired’ (such an overused word) me to put one of my manuscripts into a competition. The first 10,000 words and then if I’m lucky to progress to the the second round, the full WIP.
- In 2022, I’ve entered quite a few short story competitions, in particular with #nycmidnight and #furiousfiction. I’ll also enter something into RWA Australia’s Sweet Treats anthology competition. Maybe I’ll put one into the Spicy Bites, although I’ve just read the 2022 anthology – and WOW there are some quite graphic (to my eyes) stories, with excellent writing. If I enter something, I’ll be writing sensual not raunchy.
- I auditioned for The Chase, Australia last week. That was fun! I applied online on the Wednesday, they called me Thursday and while I sat at a pavement café in the rain (the other diners had all run away) they quizzed me. Then set up a Zoom meeting ‘in 45 minutes’ at which time they went through my application, finishing with a ‘fast minute’ quiz and small multiple choice.
The very first question these types of comps ask is ‘tell me a crazy/exciting/funny thing that has happened to you’, and when the chap asked me, I said ‘I knew that the one thing that could stop me being accepted is that I’m a quiet personality who doesn’t do spontaneous anecdotes.’ However, we then spent 40 minutes or so going through the application and chatting and laughing, so hopefully I’ve sold myself and I’ll get a call up.
If successful, it will be this year, and I should get two to three weeks notice – to record in Sydney.
- I’ve been able to get to Perth twice this year (May and August) and so have seen our grown children. Who tried their best to fit me into their busy lives 😁
- Eric and I are going to Singapore in November, and will see Phantom of the Opera in Melbourne on the way home. Phantom in Melbourne was our honeymoon show back in 1991.
- AND BONUS, our cat didn’t die in surgery on Friday!