
I used to get up every morning, drop my kids off at school, go for a run, then hit the shower and my favorite coffee shop to write for the remainder of the day before I got my kids and all the crazy afternoon activities started.
Being a single mother of three, combined with my full-time writing career, my kids' activities, and all of our social lives, meant we were like a lot of other families before COVID hit: crazy busy.
I was very aware that my anxiety has always made me feel the need to be busy — so I’d fill in every second. Lots of lunches with girlfriends. Planned activities for me and the kids on the weekends. Never turning down a job or missing a workout regardless of how burned out I was feeling.
Then, when everything shut down and we had no choice but to stay at home, I was so uncomfortable and nervous about how I would hold up emotionally. There were no open coffee shops or places to go write. My usual running route required you to wear a mask, and seeing friends and family wasn’t an option any longer.
I was just like everyone else and had no idea how long this was actually going to last
I kept telling myself I could make it through these next few weeks and enjoy the extra time with my family and get caught up on some much-needed rest.
But then as the months ticked on, I relaxed. Probably more than I have since I was a kid. I found peace in staying at home. I was fine not leaving my house for a few days in a row. It was OK, we didn’t have to have plans every second of every day.
Sure, we still got out for walks and drives. I was still able to see my boyfriend, and I talked on the phone with my friends a lot.
And I realized something: I had been depending on the daily grind — on staying busy — for so long that I had forgotten how to give myself a damn break. I hadn’t given myself permission to relax in so long I forgot what it felt like to sit on the sofa, get really lost in a show, and not have my mind continuously telling me that there were 10 other things I should be doing right now.
I never stayed busy because I was afraid I’d be missing out
I was doing it so I wouldn’t be alone with my thoughts. I was doing it because I didn’t have the energy to self-soothe myself. I was doing it to cope.
And when I was left without a choice, little by little, I began to see that not having as much to do and being still wasn’t as scary as I thought it would be.
Yes, this pandemic has been really hard, but I don’t feel like I need to go out and make up for lost time
I don’t long to pack it all in and start the crazy train I was on again. Sure, there are things I missed doing, like going to a restaurant or a movie, but the feeling of needing to schedule every minute and being extra motivated to kill it in every aspect of my life is gone.
I have a sense of peace and calm I haven’t had for a while, and honestly, just the thought of my life pre-pandemic, when I was always saying yes to everything and running around all the time, exhausts me and doesn’t seem appealing in the least.
I don’t know why it took something like COVID to make me realize what I need to do in order to protect my mental health, but that’s what happened.
I don’t have to be on fire all the time and push myself to pure exhaustion. It’s OK to say no to social events or work and not feel guilty. There’s nothing wrong with taking a rest when you need it and realizing that time off is often the fuel you need to keep going.
This past year and a half has led to a lot of suffering and bad things that have deeply affected people’s lives, but it has also shown many of us what's truly important and what makes us feel alive.
I won’t be made to feel like I have to get out there and do all the things to make up for lost time. Not this summer, and not ever, because I’m not willing to trade in the sense of peace I have right now for anything.