In times like these, a sliver of hope, comfort, and a sense of control is all that we are seeking. A feeling of perplexity mixed with exhaustion is all that we have right now. When all seems to be wasteful, it becomes vital to sit back, purge, and reevaluate.
The world is quite literally operating on auto-pilot. Gasping for air, flailing and struggling around to push itself out of a seemingly never-ending greyness. One doesn’t know what to feel these days. Even numbness sits around like a heavy hole in the center of the chest.
I feel like everyone got accustomed to dealing with a perpetual feeling of burnout. It usually comes in waves. Sometimes crashing, sometimes rippling and seeping through the routine workings of our life that otherwise present us with a facade of control and productivity.
Doing any minutely productive thing or a task that accounts for something just downright feels as if you’re living in a lent reality that you’ll soon have to return with double interest.
At this point, it is expected and immensely normal to feel a sense of helplessness and inability to do anything, even if it’s as small as forming coherent thoughts.
Sometimes feeling exhausted, sitting back, and taking out time is integral to process what you’re feeling. Processing, acknowledging, understanding, accepting, and altering are all a part of a slow and often inconsistent journey back to feeling better.
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There’s this sense of suppressed admonishment directed at structures or people that are continuing to live in their bubble of normalcy. While there are different ways of responding to a time of crisis, what was felt a year has blurred away once again. While some might resort to working excessively to distract themselves from a very grim surrounding, others might depend on a simpler and sometimes deviated form of living. The overall necessity to slow down and rethink to revitalise has once again drifted into oblivion. We are all judged and declared worthwhile as per fixed parameters of what’s being done as opposed to what’s being felt.
Once again, we are made to wonder about the redundancy of a hope we hold dearly in our hearts.
The hope we latch onto turns to nervousness which turns into maladaptive excessive planning about the future. Will we be able enough to go back to a life we so direly crave? Will we fit into the overly defined paradigm of what’s considered successful at a time when all our concepts of privilege need to be revisited and thrown out in the open?
We are all holding onto a very blemished sort of light. A light that rationally tells us that this is bound to end – How else will it unravel and conclude? We are all confused. Whether we should be selfish and show concern for our well-being. Feeling frustrated at all those who are not stopping. But, yet again are we stopping?
I find that once again, the little things outweigh the big ones. Small considerations to give space, leniency in assignments, or a cup of tea. A fundraiser or a meal delivered-the innate human tendency to look out for others is perhaps our biggest distraction from a tired, listless existence. I know, there’s a fine line between empathy and sympathy. We are all struggling with an inability to save others. We are all struggling to find those who can help-willingly, selflessly without a need for gratification. In times like these, when all is upside down, I hope we realise that maybe, just maybe reaching out and helping is all that will help us.
Artwork Credits: Vincent Giarrano