Last night a DJ saved my life
The New Leaf #50
I'm no longer in burnout, can you believe it. It's been true for a while, maybe a year, but it's happened so slowly that it’s only just risen to the level of awareness. I realised it when I started feeling something I've not felt in so long that I was honestly not sure if I ever would again: I'm actually excited about work. And about a lot of other stuff too: I'm saying yes to things, including going to places where there will be people, and I'm spending mental energy on "looking into" things to see if I want to do it. Often, I do!
I read an article in The Cut not long ago that posited that maybe we all just have brain fog now, theorising that it's a holdover from covid, either post-virally or a new normal from the overwhelm many are still carrying around. I can definitely believe that – we’re starting to forget, but just take a second and remember how little we knew at first, and how scared we were? And how long it went on for? My own personal burnout was about other things at its core, but being forbidden from going out and being in the world is what sent me over the edge. I mean, of course it did.
One of my most feverish fantasies during that time was wanting to be in a crowd, squeezing past bodies on the way to the bar in that anonymous togetherness that I love so much about living in the city. I thought about this the other week as I was being squeezed in a sway of people in a crowd, smelling sweat and perfume and spilled beer as the music pulsed through my body. And how wonderful it was, to time-travel to that longing for a second while back in the present, that longing was being fulfilled.
I used to feel so self conscious in clubs but I don't anymore, because I've finally understood, just like when you're trying on a jumper on a shop floor, that no one is paying that much attention. Instead I dance with my eyes half closed, enjoying the overwhelm of the experience that I've chosen, letting my senses flood with bright lights, cheering when the beat drops, happy to be there, happy to be out with friends and strangers. I'm hardly dressing up – vest top, trainers, ponytail – having put on my makeup at the beginning of the evening and not looking at myself again until I'm on my way home, knackered and flushed but feeling like i'm glowing. The photos tell a more smudged story so I don't take photos anymore, preferring the feeling to the objective truth. Print the legend.
It’s the feeling of wanting to that lets me know I’m not just over the hump, but actually on the other side. I still have to watch it – even post-burnout, so much keeps happening, every day! I get tired and then I wonder, maybe it's iron levels or vitamin D – you should definitely have that checked – or it could be thyroid or hormones or protein intake, or maybe creatine and magnesium, or maybe it's all in my head, which I mean sincerely as I am also in my head and have to live with what’s up there. I almost definitely need to get off my phone and go outside for a bit, and maybe I need a night out? It's always more than just one thing, and you never know what’s going to do it. So I'm just going to keep saying yes, keep going out, and keep hoping I find something good.
Writings
The case for the Scandinavian duvet divorce – Dwell
If you’ve ever suffered a nocturnal cold draft down your back, courtesy of the blanket hog next to you, I invite you to consider a small but mighty nighttime revolution: a duvet divorce, also known as the Scandinavian sleep method. For Dwell I wrote about why two duvets are better than one, or, why my mother was right all along. Give bed peace a chance! 🛏️✌️
Why your brain needs silence – New Humanist
Modern life is spent in headphones, but what happens to our brains if it's never ever quiet? I went down the rabbit hole on this question as I tried to get the answer to a feeling I've been having – that I need it to be quiet more often, even when that's a little boring (especially when it's a little boring). It turns out our brains do a lot when we're not watching, and I for one have been enjoying leaving mine alone more. The story is out now, in the Summer issue of New Humanist.
The joys of being a regular – The Simple Things
One of my favourite things about living in the city is to find the places that I like going back to again and again – pubs hidden in backstreets, winebars with a little table by the fire, and restaurants where the menu never changes. For the May issue of The Simple Things I wrote about the joys of being a regular (and why I really don't like pop-up restaurants), and the case for finding our loves and keeping on loving them.
Readings
For this month's article recommendations from around the internet, head over to Reading List, Wrote for Luck edition.