Peace of Mind with a Side of Listlessness

Lately, things just seem so dull. I’ve been feeling bored, unmotivated, and uninspired for the last few months. The running theory is that my hormones were out of whack from medication, but since I’ve stopped taking them, things don’t really seem any better.

On the surface, my life probably looks just the same as ever. I go to work then come home and write fanfiction, read a book, watch anime, play a video game, draw a little bit. But it all just feels like going through the motions right now. I’m not sure that I’m really enjoying anything, especially when it comes to creating.

As a creative person, this feels devastating. I feel lost, directionless. I feel like nearly everything I write and everything I draw is being forced out of me, and it’s not very fun. Every so often, it’s like a light will turn on in my brain and I can really see and feel what I’m doing, and just for a moment, I enjoy it. The way that my pencil hits the paper, the perfect blend of those two colors, the sentence that sounds just right. For a second, it feels normal, but then that light goes away and things return to that dim greyscale.

I worry that this is a return to my old depressive state. I’ve never been diagnosed with depression, but I know that I’ve felt it before. There have been stretches of life that have felt pointless at best and tortuous at worst. Sometimes it lasts for just a few weeks, other times months, even years. I feel like I function just fine, mostly. I can go to work, smile, keep up appearances. But the enjoyment is sucked from all my hobbies and I’m just plain tired.

It got really bad there for a while. The devastation I felt at the hands of failed fertility treatments drove me to tears nearly every day. I kept things private and cried in the shower. And when I got out, I forced myself to draw and paint and write and play and exercise. It worked. I’m serious. The hobbies felt fulfilling. It was like the one thing in life I had any control over: whether I zoned out and let life pass me by or I tried to make the most of it. I knew, for the sake of survival, I had to make the most of it.

After months of struggling for freedom from the desires that had wrapped their fingers around my throat, eventually, I caught my breath. I had a moment of clarity. Perhaps the prioritization of my hobbies and interests brought me to that point, but I realized that I could have a happy and meaningful life no matter what happened with my fertility treatment. I still want children, of course, but I no longer feel a deep, burning, painful need for them. I wasn’t just coping anymore, I was really, truly content.

So why then, after that realization, does everything feel so boring? Was the pain of longing what kept me searching for happiness in other things? Now that I’ve achieved contentment, does my brain no longer crave enrichment and entertainment? It’s so weird to feel the symptoms of depression–lack of motivation, boredom, fatigue–without the accompanying sadness. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt this mix of emotion before. Peace of mind with a side of listlessness.

Anyway, I’m not going to stop my pursuit of my hobbies, even if they’re sort of dull to me now. Maybe it’s time to pursue a new hobby or rediscover an old one. Maybe it’s time to consume content rather than sloppily creating it. Maybe it’s just a temporary funk that I’ll come out of soon anyway. Regardless, I’m not at the bottom of a giant pit of despair. I’m not feeling beaten down and bullied by life. I’m doing just fine, so I guess I’ll just try to be grateful for that.