The thought always comes, like a random jolt to the brain. 

I’m bored.

Let’s face it, we all get bored. If we didn’t, why would we do anything? Out of necessity, maybe, but also because we need to be stimulated somehow. 

However, for many years, I’ve found myself doing nothing. I might have been studying, working, writing, goofing off etc, but given where I find myself today, it feels like nothing. 

Take that feeling and add in apathy and you get a lingering sense of real boredom. Not the I haven’t been occupied for an hour and need something to do kind of boredom, but the kind where I wake up and wonder what the point is. Why do we get up and do the same thing all over again? Why do I get up and do the same thing over again?

I’m a creature of habit. My most recent interest was something that took up my time well enough but this pressing boredom ensured that I ruined it. I focused on it everyday until I was sick of it too. That was followed by something else and well, it’s less boredom and more eliciting bizarre dreams, but whatever, I have to move on from that too. 

Now, I have to search for yet another hobby but it’s tiring. I don’t want to feel this restlessness and life is passing me by. It’s not even a comparison thing. I see pictures of people out and about but I’m aware enough to know that they might feel as trapped as I do. It’s not about doing things – I do things. Not a lot, but it counts! I don’t feel like I need to do more because I’m not interested in anything. 

Maybe that’s the issue. 

Blogging has been a great help over the past seven months, especially this little side blog of mine. I love my other blog but it serves a different purpose for me. 

Still, it’s not quite filling that hole that I feel. There’s still something missing. Is it friends? I realised a few days ago that I have noticeably less emails this year. Usually I have a long chain going with someone but there’s nothing. And I don’t particularly want to initiate anything. So, it’s just me in my own little world. 

And I wouldn’t mind if that didn’t mean that I’m focused on my own shortcomings a lot of the time. 

Usually, I can fill the void with hyoerfocus on something but I always desperately try to avoid the obvious. 

Boredom isn’t just boredom but a gateway to all of the emotions that I keep locked away. The self doubt, the lack of self-esteem, the low confidence, the fact that being in public sometimes makes me want to hide forever and the fact that I always feel like I’m playing a version of myself with so many people. Some people know certain things and some people don’t know certain things. It feels like I’m always hiding, but the one person I can’t hide from is myself. 

I have no idea is this is depression, low mood, anxiety, or whatever name we give it. At this point, the terms don’t matter. I have no idea what matters. All I know is that I’d rather not think about it at all. 

I seriously need a new hobby. 

(Normal snarky service will be resumed shortly.)


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I snark about things. I'm also a señorita who used to have picture of D-List actors as her avatar. Now it's a pen. So... expect greatness from me. Or something.

8 thoughts on “Boredom”

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