Let’s talk more about burnout.
Not yet, though. Park that thought as I start off with something that might seem not related, but it is. Oh, before that, here’s the post I wrote yesterday about how I found out that there might be a link between neurodivergence and not eating breakfast.
There is a toxic positivity mentality in American culture that is tiresome. This spills over into exercising. Every time I hear, “Give 110%” or any other percentage that is about 100, I scream (either out loud or internally). Not only is it physically impossible to give that much, it wouldn’t be healthy if you could give even, say, 100% all the time.
The way people take pride in pushing themselves past their limit baffles me. Then, some of them seem to want a cookie for it as well. Look, you do you. If you want to break your body, that’s your right. But don’t expect me to applaud you for it.
Side note: This is similar to how I feel about dieting. I don’t buy into dieting culture, and I find it deeply harmful. Personally, yes, but also just in general. (Resists impulse to go on a 2,000-word diatribe about dieting.) I have dealt with eating disorders in my late teens/early twenties. Anorexia and bulimia combined–twice.
The second time, I got so many people gushing about my weight loss and asking how I did it. Beside the fact that I really didn’t want to talk about it, I couldn’t even tell them anything that they didn’t already know. Exercise and cutting down on portions. Except I took it to extremes–which was the part I most definitely would not say out loud.
I wanted to shout at them for being so positive about something that was very negative. And, yes, I knew at the time that it was negative–even if I wasn’t convinced it was a real eating disorder. Why? Because as I used to darkly joke with myself, “I didn’t have the will power to have an actual eating disorder.”
But I knew, deep down, that what I was doing wasn’t healthy at the very least. I would spend hours looking at pictures of food as a way to push off cravings. And it would be the same food, like tiramisu. Hours.
Back to burnout and toxic positivity/pushing yourself too hard.
I’ve been able to push back on the ‘give 125%’ mostly. In part it’s because I’m lazy by nature. I’m saying that with a wink and a smirk, but also a wry smile. It’s what people have told me because I don’t seem very ambitious on the outside .My mom once asked me in exasperation (after questioning me what I wanted to do with my life): “You want to work, don’t you?”
She was so flummoxed when I said no. I shouldn’t have said it, but it’s what I really felt. If I could get away without working, then I would. I did not like working (in the classical sense of the word)
It’s one reason I was so drawn to Taiji. My (second and current) teacher told me Taiji is the lazy person’s martial art and that the goal was to use minimal effort to have maximal output. That message resonated with me. I know many people, especially Americans like to tout going hard all the time, but why?
One thing I’ve seen since I’ve become into Stray Kids is how some fans excuse the toxicity in the industry (not singling out Kpop, but that just happens to be the one I’m interested in at the moment) excuse it by saying that you have to work that hard to get where SKZ has gotten (four hours of sleep most nights, pushing their bodies until they collapse/faint, working through injuries, etc.). They point at SKZ as if it’s self-evident that they had to do what they did in order to get where they are.
The thing is, we will never know because we can’t rewind time and see what would happen if they got, say, six hours of sleep a night and didn’t push themselves up to the brink–and over. Hell, they might have done more and been better with being properly rested and with whole bodies. There are plenty of studies that show efficiency takes a deep dive after a certain amount of time and effort (in a week).
I’m not saying my point of view is right, but I’m not NOT saying it, either. What I’m really saying is that why do we assume that the harsh atmosphere is truly what is needed? Again, I’m not just picking on Kpop because most if not all of the creative industries are just as bad–if not worse.
I haven’t really burned out with Taiji/Bagua before, but I have with writing. Or rather, I’ve had writer’s block. Not often, but lately, it’s…not a block exactly. It’s more that I can’t get the writing to go in the direction I want it to go.
I see myself as a guide when I’m writing. The characters have their own will, and any time I try to make them do what I want, it doesn’t work. I have to let them breathe and just be. When I’m doing it right, the words are pulsing on the screen. When I’m doing it wrong, they lie flat and refuse to do anything.
This was before my medical crisis. I could write for hourse every day. My issue was with editing, not with the actual writing. Now, however, I’m struggling with the writing itself. I keep trying different things, but nothing is really working. There have been a few attempts that weren’t bad–but they certainly weren’t good, either.
This is where I’m not sure if I should keep trying what I’ve been trying in the past or try something completely different. I’m frustrated with myself, but I don’t know if I should be. Or rather, here’s the thing. I was incredibly lucky with my medical crisis. I know that deep in my heart. I know it because my medical team told me repeatedly that I was a miracle.
I said at the time that if it meant giving up my writing, well, that’s a fair trade. More than fair. But now that it seems it might be true, well, I’m not as ok with it. I mean, I still think it’s a fair trade, but it makes me sad. I have been writing since I was seven–that’s nearly fifty years. It’s a part of my identity, and I don’t quite know what to do without it. I mean fiction writing, by the way. I’ve been able to write blog posts without fail, but I don’t consider that a talent, really.
More tomorrow.