after nearly thirty years of being alive I’ve come to, what I believe to be, a very concrete and irrefutable conclusion: that the hardest thing to do is to get out of bed every morning
that probably reads a little flip. does it dismiss the struggles of millions around the world? does it reduce the struggles of an individual to some pithy truism? does it ignore the multitudinous acts of living, the innumerable challenges of ambition, and replace them all with some lazy monkey-brained hurdle best left in the domain of reductive memes ping-ponged on millennial social media?
probably, but, here we are.
I don’t talk about this in the context of depression, when we feel as if stuck and drained by those cloudy black ghouls that haunt us, those heavy dense smoggy things that sit on our chests and pin us to our beds, hoping they may feast on our sadness when our skin has finished marinating in it.
I don’t talk about the disaffected, those of us arrested by the sheer dread of climate catastrophe, the defeated and the powerless hiding from the world burning and melting around them, frightened of the slow murder-suicide committed by the rich and powerful that control it all.
I don’t even talk about my dysphoria, that gendered thing hidden beneath the cloaks of different pains, wearing masks presenting the faces of different types of angst, a discouraging thing with roots of depths immeasurable.
I don’t talk about these things because I don’t think they matter.
a friend told me there are reasons, but there aren’t excuses.
that framework is powerful. it gives ownership. it combats surrender. it removes the person from the thing that exhausts them, and it equips them with the perspective they need to take control.
it articulates a difference. it positions the individual against the thing that keeps them tired. it recognises the things that we suffer, but it disempowers them. it allows us the opportunity to fight them, and move forward.
how do we change our habits?
how do we go to bed earlier?
how do we sleep better?
how do we wake earlier?
how do we do that when the world is melting? how do we do that when our souls are burning? how do we do that when the incentives are out of reach? how do we do that when our outcomes are obscured?
how do we do it when the only person we’re really disappointing is ourself?
ourself, the person we care least about disappointing, whom we disappoint most often, whom we never forgive nor seek forgiveness from, whom we excuse and pardon with abandon.
I don’t rightly know, but I suspect the trick might be to find something, whatever it might be, that gets us out of bed, and to do it. and then we do it every day. it’s hard. everything is.
but maybe there’s some wisdom in television, and, maybe, every day, it does get easier.