It's the end of July and what have I done of consequence this summer? This year? Last year? In 2007, I survived. And I guess, in a sense, I continue to do so. But why do I feel so inert? Is it menopause?
Does menopause manifest itself in malaise just as it shows up as thickness of body?
I'm a fairly happy person, mostly. I looked forward to our recent trip to Milwaukee and Madison. And then it came and went. And my routine returned. Up at six or so, putter till time to leave, drive to work, work at work, drive home from work, go to the gym or ride my bike downstairs or take a walk with the dogs. Off to bed, and it starts all over.(My blog just posted before I had finished; at least blogger is not inert. Or maybe it was sick of my whining.)
I read this interesting LifeHacker post recently about finding your life's purpose in 20 minutes. A nice drive-through solution. A quick fix for the blahs. I'm sure I'll shake out of this. We all go through this at times; wishing for a more meaningful life, a higher purpose.
I should just be happy with life, period. At least I have it.
(Funny, I just googled blahs and found this: Banish the Blahs. I haven't looked at it, so don't hold me accountable.)
5 comments:
Funny, I could have written your post--feeling much the same lately. You're speculating a menopausal source of it, for me maybe it's that 40 is looming? But yeah--BLAHS.
Deb B
You've got what the Evagrius Ponticus called the Noonday Demon:
Really, it's acedie more than the depression Andrew Solomon describes in his book The Noonday Demon. Kathleen Norris has is more nearly right in Acedia and Me. But even she may be too pathological
You describe it exactly. It's more a matter of thoughts than actions: thoughts of routine, of hopelessness, or one damn thing after another.
You hubby.
I'm 50 this year. I've raised 6 beautiful children, enjoy 6 beautiful offspring of theirs, have a group of great friends, have a satisfying career and a lovely place to reside. I jogged, lifted weights and practiced yoga for 20 years. But, this whole past year, I have not been inclined to do much of anything. I still love to read and sew and cook, but have to push myself now to even do these things. I take two kinds of anti-depressants and am using hormone creams and talk to a wonderful therapist once a week... but I still am almost completely inert. It is incredibly frustrating and I don't know what to do. I no longer feel sad, or depressed, just completely inert is the only thing I can call it.
Savannah,
I pulled through after a week or so, but you might try to read the book mentioned in the blog above, Kathleen Norris' Acedia and Me. That might help identify your malaise.
Thank you, Terri. I'll check it out.
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