Why is Everyone So Tired?
Right now I am surrounded by tired people. When the pandemic fired off, everything changed. Literally. Every Single Damn Thing. At every level and in every category from work to family life it all changed: the little stuff like popping to the local store to get more cat food and the big stuff like the global economy. Family, relationships, work, health and eating patterns, connections to community and hobby activities, all disrupted simultaneously. And all that change dropping down on us like a tsunami of newness was very very hard to absorb.
In New Zealand, we’re in a lull for the pandemic. We just recently emerged from our second bout of community spread and are living life relatively normally, albeit with the ambient tension and fear that relentlessly does not abate. So even though superficially it feels okay, I see everywhere the signs of people who have reached a limit. They are tired of newness and tired of fear. They are tired of change and challenge and charging forward despite the many obstacles in their way. They just want to sit down and drink a glass and stop. Everyone needs a break. Even the people who haven’t been working want a break. We all want the world to stop for a while so we can get off and enjoy the summer without the drama.
The vibe reminds me strongly of those days back in the dot com times when we’d work like idiots for weeks on end, day after long ass day calorically sustained by pizza, beer, and bin candy. Then the product would roll out the door and suddenly the manic energy would disappear and everyone would collapse. Legitimately, everyone EVERY SINGLE PERSON got sick. That’s happening now with the people around me. Accidents are increasing, people are reporting in sick, everyone is cranky and being mean. The tank is empty, the reservoirs drained. We’re making mistakes and we’re hurting each other.
We can’t make the pandemic go away. We can’t make the fear and uncertainty and sheer exhaustion vanish, but there is a great deal we can do.
First, breathe. Just breathe for a second. A minute. A whole 10 minutes. Just stop and breathe.
We can be patient with ourselves and others. We can openly accept that their illness, their anger, their pain, and their mistakes are absolutely a by-product of a change that is outside of all our control. We can forgive them. We can forgive ourselves.
We can create tiny moments of normalcy. It could be a birthday dinner or a swing down to the local beach for an afternoon. Get in a team drinks or meet up with mates to watch a game at a local pub. Take the kids to the playground and then ignore them while you read a book on the bench. Carve out an afternoon to wander around a local shopping area, play hookie from work and get your hair done, go to the library and just sit in the beautiful smell of books and the soft rustle of turning pages.
We can stop using the phrase ‘back to normal’. It isn’t going to happen. I’m sorry. It just isn’t. And we can also stop using the ‘new normal’ which has been sadly beaten to death by news media, governments and bosses to explain why we should all just adapt more quickly. We can, however, figure out what we look like now and start thinking about what we want to look like going forward.
We can also stop using the “because of covid” phrase to justify not treating ourselves and the people around us with respect or to maintain regular rhythms such as family contacts, team meetings, or planning sessions or to avoid tasks we just never really wanted to do anyway. Frankly, that was reasonable the first few months but we’re fast coming on a year of this now. It’s time to let it go and start figuring out how to be a good friend, a good team leader, a good human again.
And then… breathe again. Give yourself a hug. Cry if you need to. Breathe slowly in, slowly out. It’s okay to be tired. We’ve been trying so hard for so very long now. You’re not alone. You’re ok. Just breathe.
“Life is tough, my darling. But so are you.”~ Stephanie Bennett-Henry
