Everywhere you look, you only see red
Mar. 19th, 2021 04:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dolorosa_12Thank you to everyone who answered my last post about compost bins — I think I've settled on the type I'm going to use, and your answers were very helpful.
It unfortunately seems that my recovery from hitting the pandemic wall in February was only a temporary respite — I'm feeling absolutely miserable: worn down, hopeless, and really, really sad. I cried my way through a yoga session just now, so that's where I'm at.
My mother and sister #1 spotted it immediately when we had our weekly FaceTime call this morning. In between my sister evangelising about meditation, they both gave me the right (albeit unwelcome) advice: get off Twitter. I used to be able to be much more ruthless with myself about this — in 2019 I left Twitter (and did not read a single news article) for about six months — but I seem to have lost all self control in this regard, and end up on there for hours at a time, wallowing in all the grief, pain and cruelty of the world. It's not helpful to anyone, and it's hurting me — the whole thing is like deliberate self-harm. Since I can't be trusted to stay away, I need to delete the app (I'm not yet prepared to contemplate deleting my account entirely, but the app needs to be gone from my phone and iPad). I can feel it slowly poisoning me — it's making me feel bleak and hopeless, like the whole world is full of violent, controlling bullies and those who make excuses for them. And, as I say, I can see myself slipping into patterns of behaviour that are basically self-harm: deliberately seeking out things on Twitter which I know will upset me, deliberately seeking out examples of people reacting with hopelessness and despair to others' cruelty, and just submerging myself in all that pain. I can't be there any more.
On the other hand, I keep seeing people announcing that they're getting their first (or second) dose of the vaccine, and these announcements are like lighthouses, shining valiantly through the storms and dark water. At least six people in my Dreamwidth circle (five in the US, one Australian) in the past two days said they had either been vaccinated or were going to be this week, and I've seen various other people (mainly British and Australian) announce the same thing on Twitter. My father-in-law (in Germany) got his first dose last weekend, and sister #1 told me that our dad, and sister #2 (eighteen years old, but has Type 1 diabetes) are getting their first dose next week. Technically my mother is eligible too, but due to the complete shambles that is Australia's method of handling the vaccine rollout (instead of getting GP surgeries to notify each eligible person when a dose and appointment becomes available, the government launched some buggy website that everyone had to log into to book an appointment, in much the way that one would try to buy tickets to a highly popular music gig; inevitably the website crashed, there was contradictory information, etc etc) she hasn't bothered to try yet. Sister #1 thinks it was easier for our father to get his appointment because he lives in a regional centre rather than in a major city.
Shambles aside, seeing all these people get vaccinated is really, really wonderful. In the UK I've seen people in their forties getting their first dose (although I don't know if these people have chronic health conditions as well), so I'm hopeful in the next month or so that I (in my thirties, no disabilities or chronic illnesses) might get my first vaccination too!
There are shadows, but the light is there too.
It unfortunately seems that my recovery from hitting the pandemic wall in February was only a temporary respite — I'm feeling absolutely miserable: worn down, hopeless, and really, really sad. I cried my way through a yoga session just now, so that's where I'm at.
My mother and sister #1 spotted it immediately when we had our weekly FaceTime call this morning. In between my sister evangelising about meditation, they both gave me the right (albeit unwelcome) advice: get off Twitter. I used to be able to be much more ruthless with myself about this — in 2019 I left Twitter (and did not read a single news article) for about six months — but I seem to have lost all self control in this regard, and end up on there for hours at a time, wallowing in all the grief, pain and cruelty of the world. It's not helpful to anyone, and it's hurting me — the whole thing is like deliberate self-harm. Since I can't be trusted to stay away, I need to delete the app (I'm not yet prepared to contemplate deleting my account entirely, but the app needs to be gone from my phone and iPad). I can feel it slowly poisoning me — it's making me feel bleak and hopeless, like the whole world is full of violent, controlling bullies and those who make excuses for them. And, as I say, I can see myself slipping into patterns of behaviour that are basically self-harm: deliberately seeking out things on Twitter which I know will upset me, deliberately seeking out examples of people reacting with hopelessness and despair to others' cruelty, and just submerging myself in all that pain. I can't be there any more.
On the other hand, I keep seeing people announcing that they're getting their first (or second) dose of the vaccine, and these announcements are like lighthouses, shining valiantly through the storms and dark water. At least six people in my Dreamwidth circle (five in the US, one Australian) in the past two days said they had either been vaccinated or were going to be this week, and I've seen various other people (mainly British and Australian) announce the same thing on Twitter. My father-in-law (in Germany) got his first dose last weekend, and sister #1 told me that our dad, and sister #2 (eighteen years old, but has Type 1 diabetes) are getting their first dose next week. Technically my mother is eligible too, but due to the complete shambles that is Australia's method of handling the vaccine rollout (instead of getting GP surgeries to notify each eligible person when a dose and appointment becomes available, the government launched some buggy website that everyone had to log into to book an appointment, in much the way that one would try to buy tickets to a highly popular music gig; inevitably the website crashed, there was contradictory information, etc etc) she hasn't bothered to try yet. Sister #1 thinks it was easier for our father to get his appointment because he lives in a regional centre rather than in a major city.
Shambles aside, seeing all these people get vaccinated is really, really wonderful. In the UK I've seen people in their forties getting their first dose (although I don't know if these people have chronic health conditions as well), so I'm hopeful in the next month or so that I (in my thirties, no disabilities or chronic illnesses) might get my first vaccination too!
There are shadows, but the light is there too.
no subject
Date: 2021-03-19 08:18 pm (UTC)I've had the same problem with using online content to mentally self-harm. I can't say I've completely gotten past it, but my therapist tells me it's a good first step just to know that I'm doing it and say, "Hey, I'm doing that thing again" even if I'm not able to stop myself in that moment.
no subject
Date: 2021-03-21 11:07 am (UTC)It's helpful to know that there are other people who do the same thing as me with online content, and have similar struggles in controlling that behaviour. It really is awful, isn't it? I'm glad to know that you're at least able to recognise it when it starts to happen.