I’m languishing. This emotional and mental state has become common parlance in the frequent conversations where we discuss our fading mental health during the pandemic. This word describes that ever-present feeling, lying murkily between thriving and depression, that repeated lock down and social isolation has forced upon us. The dominant emotion of 2021.
In response to a prolonged period of languish, where a rotation of tactics had failed to work (online shopping, more exercise, less exercise, binging Netflix, reading, more alcohol, no alcohol, mindfulness activities, good food, bad food, buying plants), I decided I needed a change. Like a real change. Not just a momentary change in scene, but a full on, permanent change. I had to break the monotony of life. I wanted a project. And not just something fun, but something that would challenge me, and maybe even unsettle me.
We loved our Pyrmont life. Everything was within walking distance from our house. During our time there we lived in two beautiful apartments. We watched the sun setting over the Anzac Bridge from one and the sun rising over the Harbour Bridge from the other. I walked every day around the water’s edge. I practised Ashtanga yoga in the early mornings in a cosy studio overlooking the city skyline. I was always near a store selling everything I wanted. And also things I never knew I wanted, but once I had, felt I couldn’t live without. Pioik bread comes to mind. And Japanese knife sharpening services. It was extremely convenient. Perhaps too convenient.
Looking east at sunset over the water
But these places we lived in were never my home. I could never put a shelf on the wall, paint a wall, replace a light fitting, or create a garden. I’d do my best to nest, but it was never mine to settle in. There was always a lingering thought about when to end the lease and move on. The flexibility was deliberate though. It meant in 2018 we could end our lease for a year long trip around the world as digital nomads. Ultimately, it meant we could do what we’ve just done. But the packing and unpacking every year or two was tiresome.
It turns out that complete and utter boredom during lock down is a good catalyst to tip the first domino. And so I made a plan - end the tenant’s lease in our Penrith investment property, end our lease in Pyrmont, renovate our Penrith house and become owner-occupiers in the ‘burbs. And then have the freedom to travel whenever.
This would be the first time in my life, since the age of 3, that I would live in a house that was owned by the occupier. In 32 years I’ve lived in 16 different houses, and spent one year with no fixed address. I’m used to moving around and it doesn’t bother me. The packing/unpacking and moving process is a nuisance, but I’ve always found the change refreshing. I’m happier when moving, being a nomad. But I also decided that I would enjoy being able to put a hole in the wall for once (and have the kitchen bench that I like and the carpet colour I like and so on).
New carpet and paint throughout
So I thought moving from our comfortable and convenient city life to a messy and disruptive suburban one sounded like something to get me out of languishing.
So, we left Pyrmont for Penrith.
The river walk along the Nepean River
My husband and I are not the kind of people you’d refer to as ‘handy’ or ‘good around the house’. We owned an Ikea drill set (required only to speed up flat pack assembly), a pair of secateurs and a hammer. We now own more tools than a tradie - no actually, than all the tradies.
Just some of the tools
We’ve done plumbing, carpentry, building, plastering, electrical work, painting, tiling and landscaping. It is amazing what can be learnt from watching a DIY video. And then re-learnt from a better DIY video because the first three you watched missed the key detail required to avoid a fuck up.
The kitchen before renovation
So we renovated. In a mere two months we transformed the house, changing every room. We made a place we could call our home. We made it just the way we liked.
The kitchen after renovation. Aren't those door handles divine!?
But it didn’t work. Renovating a house didn’t work. Moving 50km to the other side of Sydney didn’t work either. There was a small sense of accomplishment, but I felt miserable. I broke down sobbing during a video call with my boss for no apparent reason. I took 5 days off work and could barely get out of bed.
When I started writing this blog post a month ago (it’s been a slow one), I said I was languishing. But that’s not really the truth. That was tempered storytelling. It’s worse than that. My GP calls it reactive depression. I was depressed. My psychologist says it is a completely reasonable response to chronic dissatisfaction. A prolonged lack of social interaction, lack of eustress (the good kind of stress that makes you do stuff) and little to look forward to can have a significant impact on mood hygiene. And can lead to depression. Our experience of living through lock down and living in a constant state of unknown for two years is enough to make anyone feel - well, much less than happy.
Lock down goodies were a nice touch but were no match for the chronic dissatisfaction
But after some weeks, I felt hopeful again. It wasn’t an instant transformation. It was gradual. First, gyms opened up. I joined the local F45 and booked myself into the 6.45am class every weekday morning. And I got up every morning and went. I started feeling a sense of purpose in the mornings. Then, I started completing small tasks on my to-do list during the day - patch a hole in the wall, hang up a picture frame, weed the garden, paint the kitchen skirting board. I started feeling a sense of accomplishment in the afternoons. Then, we booked a hotel room in the city and went out for dinner and cocktails at our favourite bar in Sydney. (Burrow Bar, in case you were wondering.) I experienced one of the things I love doing. And the positive emotions started building. I started seeing my friends again. We organised a house-warming party. I had something to look forward to.
As I sit here today, a few more weeks after I wrote the two paragraphs above, I feel happy. Actual joy that I have not felt in months. And not a fleeting moment of joy but a feeling I have been able to dip in and out of all day.
My new garden has been a source of contentment
International borders are opening. We booked a snowboarding trip to Italy. I’m excited. And ideas have started flowing into my mind about the travel and remote work we could do in 2022. There is so much to look forward to. I am optimistic. And I realise, I haven’t felt those emotions for 6 months or more.
I came across a line, I can’t remember where, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it as I started moving (physically through exercise), making plans, booking travel and feeling happier than I have in a long time -
Movement itself might be the ideal human state
Psychologists have found that there is a close relationship between our activity and our mood. In therapy speak, behavioural activation for depression is about making your life meaningful and pleasurable again. It involves learning about the vicious cycle of inactivity and depression. What we do affects how we feel and vice versa. A key tool in BA is to include activities in your life that provide a mix of both pleasure and a sense of accomplishment.
In the past, I unconsciously (or maybe subconsciously), filled my days with a perfect mix of pleasure and accomplishment - exercise, work, coffee date, laundry, home-cooked meal, social outings - but lock down disrupted our routines and took away our pleasurable activities. It unwound the perfectly balanced days that I had subconsciously designed for myself. Now, I must consciously design them to avoid the vicious cycle.
It goes something like this… In the morning, an accomplishment (going to F45) and a pleasure (having my morning coffee in my garden). In the afternoon, an accomplishment (clean the toilets) and a pleasure (baking banana bread). In the evenings, an accomplishment (do an online grocery order for next week) and a pleasure (watching a good show on Netflix). And if I’m doing really well, something that is both pleasure and accomplishment (reading a chapter of my book).
It’s deliberate and curated. I plan the 6 items (1 accomplishment and 1 pleasure in each of the morning, afternoon and night) for the day ahead while walking back from F45. Missing one activity is likely to cause a second one to be missed. And so on. And then the vicious cycle begins. Inactivity leads to more inactivity. And prolonged inactivity can lead to depression. But soon, I don’t think I’ll have to plan so carefully. It will come naturally, and a slip up here or there won’t matter. Because I’ll be resilient again.
The past two years have challenged us all. Some more than others. I was fortunate to only struggle mentally and not financially, physically or otherwise. So many were not. I know my privilege, and of course, that guilt does not help when self-care is the prescription.
But today, I am no longer languishing. Or depressed. I feel optimistic, curious, content, calm. I’m balanced. And so excited to go to Italy!
When I started writing this blog post, I intended it to be about moving house and renovating and perhaps a little tribute to Pyrmont. I was going to compare and contrast city and suburban life. That was the story I wanted to tell.
But it turns out, that wasn’t the story I needed to tell. And that’s probably why it took 2 months from when I started to write this post to publishing it. The hardest ones to write are usually the ones that most need to be written.
I truly hope that if you have a story like mine to tell, you tell someone.
