For as long as I can remember, I’ve had a little voice in the back of my head (OK, not literally, A VOICE, but… more like a feeling. A pressure?) that is always pushing me to do more. Work a little harder. Work a little longer. Juggle a little more. Do a little more than yesterday. Just a little. Every day. You’re not doing enough. Tomorrow you must do more. Yes, today, you successfully juggled seventeen balls while balancing a table on your chin, but tomorrow? Also set the table on fire. And stand on a beach ball.
I’ve been on a low dose of Prozac now since… end of February? beginning of March? So about three months or so.
Now it’s like … there’s a thick, dense, fluffy pillow fort between me and that voice, that pressure. I can stand outside a situation and say, “here is a situation where, three months ago, I would have told myself to do more. Told myself to push harder. Told myself to set the table on fire and stand on a beach ball.” And do you know what? I don’t do it. I shrug. Tomorrow is another day. If I don’t finish that thing today? The sun will still set tonight, rise in the morning, and I can finish it then. Or, not even then. There’s another day after that one.
Is that what normal people feel like? Because it’s deeply fucking weird. I feel very… lazy. Even though I’m not, like, napping all day (like I was when on pain meds from my broken finger). I’m just… chill. Eh. Whatever it is, it’ll all come round right in the end. It’s not like I’m walking away from a dying person and saying I’ll finish up that spinal cord surgery tomorrow. I’m covering a newly thrown pet food bowl and leaving it for a day or two while I work on some other things.
At the same time I feel more chill, I do not trust it AT ALL. I am very mellowly waiting for the other shoe to drop. If I stay on Prozac, will I get EVEN MORE CHILL? Will I become, like, Brad Pitt’s character in True Romance (without the weed)? “Dude. While you’re out, will you get me some ice cream?” Will EVERYTHING stop being something I have to feel responsible about and for? Will I stop doing laundry and cleaning cat boxes? Will I slowly melt into my office chair as I scroll through page after page of cat memes on the Internet? Because I don’t feel totally unmotivated – in fact, if anything, I feel *more* motivated to do things for my Self, like get a hobby I don’t turn into a business, and eat lunch every day, and read more comic books. But I feel unmotivated to push myself to every single day, work harder than I did the day before. I feel motivated to take better care of myself and to more remind the people around me how much I love them and how grateful I am for them.
That’s not entirely a bad thing… so why am I waiting for some shoe to drop? Is it my life-long paranoia that when things are going well, things are very soon going to go to shit? Because yes, some things are a little challenging right now (don’t even get me started on the Gainsville house, or how we seem to own two houses that BOTH need new roofing at the same time, what the fuck even)… but overall, life is pretty good. I feel pretty good. I don’t feel stressed out all the time and I love to work and I am willingly in this studio about ten hours a day but these days when I feel like I need a break, I take a break. Is that how normal people feel all the time? Because that is SO WEIRD.