Getting Off The Carousel

In Australia we call them merry go rounds, I'm using the term carousel in reference to a song I've always liked and that seemingly takes on more significance each year.

The song, of course, is Sick Cycle Carousel by Lifehouse (my favourite band - I'd love some new music guys).

Here's some of the lyrics:

"I tried to climb your steps, I tried to chase you down, I tried to see how low I could get down to the ground, I tried to earn my way, I tried to tame this mind, You better believe that I tried to beat this.

"So when will this end, It goes on and on, Over and over and over again, Keep spinning around i know that it won't stop, Till I step down from this for good."

So I've been going around and around for far too long. I want to change, not just lifestyle but outlook and attitude. Let me tell you it's hard.

It hasn't helped that at this stage of the pandemic, despite Australia being in a fantastic position compared to many places around the world, things have taken a bit of a dark turn. I've had a couple of weeks of leave and at times have sunk a bit low.

This week I have tried to drag myself out of it and it is helping to a degree but I don't think it matters how much work I do, if I return to the same place I'm only going wind up back there at some point along the way.

You know what they say about doing the same thing and expecting different results?!

I don't pretend it is going to be easy because to change you need to let go of things you're holding onto. There are a few things in particular I'm holding onto that must be released.

Chief among them is fear. Fear of living, it seems.

Someone I know who has been through a serious health battle said in an interview today that releasing fear from their body was a big part of getting on top of things.

I've often thought about what fear is doing to me. I might expand on that at another time.

To quote the song again - "I guess I kind of thought it would be easier than this I guess I was wrong".

Inside A Mid-Life Crisis

In the movies when someone, usually a guy, is having what they call a 'mid-life crisis' they are usually seen cruising around in a fancy car or have had some kind of eye-opening makeover.

That may be true of some people. It may be the text book example. I doubt it's the norm.

I've been trying to work out what's been going on with myself for a while and I've concluded that it is in fact a mid-life crisis. At 45 it seems to fit. I have a huge sense of uncertainty, not helped at all by a global pandemic, and a simmering sense of fear.

It's the latter that is fuelling a lot of aspects of life, making it harder to get up and going in the morning and less willing to explore the world in all its forms. On the other side I have the sense of time running out, or probably more accurately of the limited amount of time that is available to us.

Kind of a paradox. I should be making the most of the time available particularly when I am in the shape, physically and financially to a degree, to be able to. But the fear is like a harness.

I suffer from a extreme lack of focus on anything that's not internal or related to my internal wellbeing. I don't seem to be able to connect with others as I default to living inside the prison that my fears have created in my head. I want to break free (apologies to Queen) but I want it to happen immediately and am unable to take the small steps required to emerge, have a sense that it's a permanent change, therefore a sustainable one. A quick fix won't, and never does, work.

This has to be what a mid-life crisis is. A realisation that you're not immortal, and wondering how important whatever it is you're doing. Whether there's some greater purpose or it's all just stuff you do and experience and it doesn't really matter.

Small steps are actually quite hard but they are the rewarding ones. Recently I committed to curbing a bad gambling habit, and it's so far so good. I pledged to not gamble on the machines, something that has been an issue from time to time, and at the end of each month donate $100 to charity. If for whatever reason I slip up, no matter how insignificant, I sign up to a self-exclusion program.

It's a good incentive and by donating money each month it's putting money to worthy causes.

I have a sense of determination about that which is handy, I just need more determination about myself in other areas. In no small part, mental health.

This pandemic is soul crushing but it isn't wholly responsible for my situation. It's a contributing factor at the moment but hopefully the pandemic will end. In Australia the problem isn't anywhere near as huge as it is in other parts of the world but we've seen in one state that it can shut life as we know it down. I've been wanting to come out of the pandemic in a better shape, it's not looking great at the moment but it's a war not just one battle.

I've said before I feel like I have no friends and that still stands, but I don't know how true that is. I'm sure I do but there's no sense of closeness and that's just as scary as the mid-life crisis itself.

Hole Digging During A Pandemic

There are smarter things I've done than attempt to come off an anti-depressant in the middle of a pandemic. Turns out I probably need it.
Everyone has been thrown a curve ball, regardless of whether or not your work has been affected, and it's difficult to adjust. I struggled in the early weeks leading into the shutdown of society as we know it with a sense of unease overwhelming my subconscious, eventually it seeped out and became a simmering level of anxiety. That was uncomfortable.
Now it's been about two months and people are starting to emerge again as restrictions are ever so slowly lifted. But, typical of all of us, you give an inch and most will take that mile.
I guess it's less an ignorance about the virus still being about and more a desire to get back to some kind of normal. Whatever that looks like.
There's nothing like a forced disconnection from the world to make someone who already feels like there's a wall around them to be even more isolated. Sure, I go to work which is handy and gives a sense of normal.
But I don't have any friends.
That's the hardest realisation to come to.
I suppose I can't blame anyone, I spend far too much time in my own world of idealism to be able to come out and interact. Regardless of whether I'm in the company of others or not.
At last look I have something like 830 'friends' on Facebook. Around 1400 people care enough to follow me on Twitter. It feels like zero.
Before any alarm bells start to ring I have to say while it is hard it's not a hole I can't get out of.
But how?
What does it mean when you make a point of trying to organise a catch up with people you think are your mates but it never happens? Are they too caught up in their world to venture into someone else's too? Or are you really not friends? You can't help but take it personally.
It's also hard to feel close to others when the powers that be keep telling you to stay away from people. No wonder when the opportunity for a meaningless encounter presents itself it seems even more appealing.
It's also easy to blame the pandemic but what will things look like when there's some semblance of normal? I have been determined to emerge better from this crisis.
How that looks I don't have a picture, especially from the hole I'm in at the moment.