I’m staring at my blinking cursor, and I don’t know where to begin. Really, how to even press the first key. Not because I don’t have anything to say, but because of a concerning new development in which I often find myself both physically and mentally frozen.
In the three short months it was actually a thing, I volunteered for the Harris campaign here in Georgia, and while I certainly do not get a cookie for that, I’ve been feeling especially unmotivated since waking up on November 6 (disclaimer: Harris was not my perfect candidate. This seemed like the most important election of my lifetime, and I felt compelled to help in a physical capacity given that I’m now a resident of a crucial swing state. I have many thoughts about the Democratic establishment and the U.S. government as a whole that I’m going to try my best leave out of this newsletter).
There’s literally no point in anything, I morbidly mused to my boyfriend upon waking up and seeing the results. What felt like a potential change in the tides had not only been a too-hopeful farce, it was a positively definitive failure. And while my wholly unmotivated state didn’t start with the election loss, it absolutely took it to a new level.
In the two months since, pivoting to things that are in my control has brought me a tiny bit of solace. When I can’t stand the world around me, how can I make my own day-to-day life just a little bit better? I asked myself.
In past times of distress, I’ve usually fallen back on my creative outlets. I started thinking about all the possible projects I could start, and the millions of hours of content I have in my saved folder about various crafts. Then I started thinking about all the people I saw online who were executing their creative projects perfectly, about how whatever I choose to do will never be at their level, and on and on and on. Every time I started, I gave up and went back to scrolling, saving things for “sometime soon,” not ever having fulfilled the itch or motivation to try something—ANYTHING—new.
TikTok doctors call this phenomenon “functional freeze,” and it’s (apparently) a symptom of overwhelm and burnout—with no known cure, except maybe to get enough sleep, eat well and start creating something new. *rolls eyes*
They’re probably right, because all I know is I need to make something. And this time, it doesn’t need to be—in fact, it can’t be—for any external reward (except for, maybe, hopefully, a few new friends).
So with that, here is my Substack. I’ve been wanting to start one for awhile, so here I am, just starting. I’m clawing my way out, inch by inch, of my tendency to sit and make excuses—mainly for not having a fleshed-out content plan or a million clickable ideas or not knowing how to use the platform to its full capability or that one thing that so-and-so has that makes them so cool, effortless, and fun.
I’m just starting! And I’m putting the following in writing: I refuse to allow this creative project to become something I feel beholden to. That, for me, is a radical thought. For something I make to just be good enough.
Chat soon.
I feel this deeply and had the same thought about starting my Substack! We have this 💪