The Pit

I used to think that if I could just write full time, then all my problems would be solved. I could work for myself, I could have total flexibility with my schedule, and I would be doing something I love. It was the only thing I needed to really feel alive.

The thing is, it’s not the thing I do full time. I’ve always had to do it on the side. So I thought that if I could just devote all my spare time to writing in order to get to the point where it could be my full time thing, then I would have my breakthrough.

Even before COVID happened, I started to isolate myself so I could accomplish this. I worked from home and didn’t go out much. Then, of course, COVID hit and going out became a thing of the past. Not only because we had to isolate, but because it confirmed that almost anything could be done online.

And so began my spiral into the pit.

I continued to write from pure determination and willpower, which, as you might suspect, is susceptible to running out. There were many periods where that is indeed what happened. During those periods, I would beat myself up for not doing the thing I so desperately wanted to do. But I couldn’t find the energy, and I didn’t know where to find more of it. It was a similar problem that I had to leaving the house (and actually, a lot of time I only left when I’d made a commitment like choir—once again, using determination and willpower to force myself out).

Eventually, I found myself in a place where I was very wishy-washy with my writing and almost exclusively living in front of one screen or another, inside and pretty much alone.

As you might imagine, this was wreaking havoc on my mental health even before I could identify the cause.

Over the last few months, I’ve started to feel the pull to shake things up. I needed to write more consistently rather than just writing whenever I felt like it. And I also needed community. I quit the last thing that got me out of the house consistently back in January and the lack of people in my physical day to day was really starting to wear on me. I found myself logging into social media more to not feel so isolated, and that depressed me further. Because the more I did it, the more apparent it became to me that most of social media just feels so fake. Accounts that used to make me laugh felt overly produced, heavily staged, and incredibly shallow. I had no control over the algorithm and what it served me that minute. It might be a really heavy, substantial piece one minute and pure mind candy the next. And it hit me that this was what was fueling my creative engine because that’s most of what was in the tank.

That, as we say, is rock bottom.

For the last few months, I’ve been staring at the tiny prick of light far above me trying to figure out how the hell to get out of this pit. Because dreaming about writing full time just wasn’t cutting it anymore. I needed serious change that pushed me into action.

I needed… structure.

A lot of my life recently had revolved around going with the flow, and for awhile that wasn’t a bad thing. I think that after years of being highly perfectionistic and organized, after years of overriding my feelings, I needed to let go of structure so I could be more in touch with my energy levels and what I was actually excited to do. But there is such a thing as balance, and too little structure is just as harmful to feeling alive as too much.

So these past few months have been about creating structure.

I like to think of it as handholds. The kind you hammer into a wall in order to climb. Really experienced rock climbers will carry these with them to places where handholds don’t exist, and as they climb, they’ll put the next handholds in and then use them to get to the next place that needs handholds. This is the only way to climb a mountain that’s never been scaled.

And when you’re unmotivated to do anything, a single handhold can get you an inch off the ground.

This started with me writing consistently every weekend. It was a container that allowed me to at least once a week have dedicated writing time. And even if I didn’t believe I had anything to say, I discovered that if I created the space, something would come to me.

That’s a magical thing to discover.

Being out in nature in our garden more this year led me to herbalism, which became the next handhold. Herbalism has become a source of play for me that gets me excited in a way that nothing has in awhile. Like, I get to create medicine in my own kitchen? How cool is that? My ancestors knew how to do this, and now I get to reconnect with this art that so many of us have lost. I have no idea what I’m going to do with it once I become more proficient, but it’s incredible to have the space to play and then use what I’ve made.

I’ve been up a few inches off the ground since starting these and have been ready for my next handhold. And so it’s time to start working on the community piece. Getting out of the house. Changing up my routine from just sitting in front of a screen.

At the same time, I’ve had a craving for moving my body more and getting stronger. I’m getting older and, well, sitting in front of a screen so much takes its toll on my posture and how I feel in general.

So the next handhold has become joining a gym.

I’ve resisted this for so long because it’s always felt like a waste of time and money. Thanks to COVID isolation, I know I can pay a small subscription fee and exercise in my own home. I have equipment, I can quickly throw on clothes and have easy access to a shower. Why on earth would I ever leave my house to exercise?

Well, partially because actually finding a break in my day so I can put gym clothes on, find a video to follow, and then shower after takes a lot of effort. If it’s not a scheduled class I have to show up for in person at a specific time, it’s really easy to sink into that lack of motivation and swear to myself I’ll do it tomorrow. Which is what’s been happening for the last few months.

But it’s not just that. This handhold system has made me realize that joining a gym isn’t even about the exercise at all. It’s about the consistent access to community. Seeing other people on my tv screen “doing it with me” just isn’t the same as having other people next to me I can socialize with and get to know. The movement, the strength building, the taking care of my body, that’s really just the bonus.

With that framing, it became much harder to argue against the idea that I really needed to join a gym.

The important thing I’ve also learned is that baby steps are legitimate. When you’ve been at the bottom of the pit for so long, even stepping up a couple of inches can feel like a lot. It takes a lot of handholds and a lot of steps up those handholds before you’ve built up the strength to take a big step up.

So that’s what this process has been. Lots of baby steps.

Investigate local gyms and exercises classes for a few weeks. Check.

Decide on a gym that has a good array of classes I want at times I want. Check.

Actually buy the damn membership. This one was the hardest step! It was like my brain knew that if I did this, there was no turning back. It took a couple of weeks just to do this, but it’s now also a check.

And then going to class. Well, last night I was planning to go to a class but I’ve been getting some Crohn’s flare ups. It was really disappointing and I was scared of losing momentum before I even started. So I compromised. I went to the gym so I could get my card and they could take my picture. And that was it! Most people probably at least come in, use the equipment a little, go to a class. But me? I got my stuff, thanked them, and headed out the door.

But it’s a step! And that’s what matters. Because there will always be more steps. I just have to hammer in one handhold so I can steady myself and hammer in the next one.

This is so different from what I learned from our all or nothing, perfectionistic society. But this is how you pull yourself off the ground when you’re at the bottom of the pit. You have to be willing to take an honest look at what got you there, and then you just have to be brave enough to put in a single handhold and step onto it. Because if you can put in enough handholds, eventually you’ll find yourself at the top climbing out of the pit.