A Limbo, A Way Station

Momentum has been in such sort supply that even acknowledging the scarcity takes a draining amount of effort. I’m relating hard to what Chris D. succinctly posted to Instagram in October:

Feeling an emotional exhaustion I cannot recall ever feeling before. But maybe that’s just being overdramatic. Even though I have had anywhere from 1 to 4 days of fairly continuous work each week since the beginning of the month (here at home), the rest of my days and nights are filled with equivocation with myself, poised between inertia and still feeling constrained by covid. It feels as if I’m in a limbo, a way station (I guess we all are, though, to some degree.) But one feeling that really bothers me is my reticence to follow through on phone calls and messages. Nothing to do with the people at all so much as my feeling of no longer being able to communicate about even the most mundane of matters, unless mandated by outside work. I feel somehow relieved if I return even one phone call or text or email in what most people would consider a timely manner. I’m posting this not out of the need to make excuses, but to explain to people I may not be getting back to as quickly as I should. It’s really beyond procrastination or depression or despair, but more like my psyche is purposely blanking the slate. Although my psyche is not doing a particularly good job of it.

Chris D. on Instagram

If I had to pick one word that delineates the past year it would be this one: “exhaustion.” Nervous apologies to everyone I’ve ghosted on.

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