Sept. 30, 2002
One of the problems I faced in the corporate world was losing my sense of self. I had ceased to be Alex – the girl who travels, laughs and finds pennies. Instead, I became a living zombie who dreaded everyday.
When I took control of my life and decided to do what I wanted, everything changed – my outlook, my personality and my life. It was a beautiful thing.
I was finally able to do anything and everything I wanted. I could write all day long and into the night. I could do watercolours, take an art class, volunteer, travel, visit friends, break for tea, take walks, whatever. Anything interesting that came along, I now had the ability to do it – and I did.
A whole year and a half of this and I had slowly begun to wear down while my life revolved around writing and creativity. I felt I had to eat, sleep and breathe it and if I wasn’t, I was somehow misusing this new life of mine. The guilt was constant.
In August I realised that I was in dire need of time off, so I booked a vacation. However, I couldn’t just take a vacation because I am a travel writer! So I made my vacation business and business it was. Talking with people, taking notes and being overly conscious left me very tired and weary after the trip. Even though I was on a high from my first big assignment, I was overwhelmed. And the worst part was I didn’t want to admit it.
Only days back from my hectic trip, I had company. And only days after that company leaving did I have more company. I tried to hide the fact that I was overwhelmed and cranky because the company was good and I wanted them to visit, especially since I had the time. I thought their energy would reneergise me – but it didn’t. Instead, it left me in a pile of blah.
It didn’t help that I had 72 emails waiting to be returned – emails that demanded that I make the deadline, friends asking for creative advice, people wanting me to proof their work that I had agreed to, questions that had to be answered, stories that had to be told, demands for advice on how to be creative just like me and concerns from people on why I hadn’t updated the site in twenty-two days.
My brain was fried, literally fried. I didn’t know how to respond to 72 emails because I didn’t even know how to respond to myself. I was a mess. An overwhelmed mess yet instead of taking time to regroup all I could do was think of how I had to get back to work. How I had to be creative and use my time properly. How I had to nap, walk and make it all worthwhile. All the “have to’s” started to eat at me and I became so utterly useless.
In a fit on the floor, I stopped for just a moment to ask myself who the hell was I? What had I become?
The answer? I was a girl obsessed with creativity and writing. If I wasn’t writing, I thought I had to be creative. If I wasn’t being creative, I thought I had to be doing something productive. I had become almost this automatic zombie just doing things, trying to fill up time because I thought I was supposed to. I was trying to find balance but only balancing “doing things”. Even my relaxing, quiet time was work. There wasn’t anytime left just to be.
It hadn’t been something I wanted to admit. I wanted to be able to do it all. I wanted to pull that off but the truth is, I couldn’t. I’m a writer not Super Woman.
I had to take a break from who I had become so I decided for the next week I would stop everything, go into hibernation and regroup. I stayed at home, tucked inside, with no schedule whatsoever.
It was so miserably uncomfortable at first. I felt lazy, I felt useless and I felt like I was a big fat nothing. I was antsy. I, the girl who won napping contests and loved nothing more than to sit by the lake to watch it talk, couldn’t sit still. I couldn’t be alone with myself. I felt if all I had done was talk about writing and creativity for the past year that I had to be doing it and if I wasn’t, I didn’t know who I was.
On the third day of isolation, however, something wonderful started to kick in – me. I started to relax, so much so I even got to sleep in. I baked a cake and didn’t mind when I found out that my baking is still inedible. I took long walks without rushing to get home to record an idea. I watched trashy tv, skipped reading emails, and put the watercolours away. I swear, I even giggled at my own jokes.
I found myself again, which seems like a strange thing to say I know. But I had become this entity for writing, for creativity, for liberation and so that’s all I thought about and did. It was like I had had a baby which was all anyone could talk about. I forgot that I can take time off just to be me and that just because I can say yes to so many things, doesn’t mean I actually have to.
With my head successfully out of my ass, I made a plan – stay in hibernation for winter.
I spent the rest of the week alerting my friends and family that I wouldn’t be visiting or receiving them until at least January. I canceled some up coming trips, conferences and lunch dates. I re-organised my office by getting rid of useless papers, saving much needed ones, putting up shelves, making it cosy and finding the perfect spot for my tea mug. I also rested like mad.
There were projects that I had just started and canceled some while I streamlined others. Websites that I maintain were put on hold for the next several months (save this and my travel portfolio), and I caught up on all my email. I stopped taking on any new projects so that I can finish all my current ones without pressure. I also stocked up on supplies of quick made food, bubble bath and the imperative glossy mags for those nights of doing nothing but relaxing.
When I was canceling and shuffling things around, I felt the selfish pang again. I also felt like a total bitch for declaring to myself that a simple lunch date with a friend really was a hassle. But I realise if I hadn’t done all this, I’d be sitting here typing in an overwhelmed state – and what use is that? Instead, I’m calm, cool and terribly excited because I feel able to deal with everything now.
Although learning what I can and can’t do has been a challenge, it’s been an essential lesson. To keep enjoying what I do, to keep moving forward and to keep my head out of my ass, I have to go scale back on work and play a little more. I have to stop taking on the world and remember to say a little hullo to a girl named Alex who writes for a living and smiles on her time off.