The Art of Meh
I don’t feel like doing shiiiiiiiiiit. I guess that’s the real holiday spirit. I’m expecting blood to gush out of my vag any minute. Well, more like a sporadic drip. I’m not ready for the holidays, yet I’m fine with just throwing up my hands and calling it a year. The days are short. Nights are long. And I want to exist somewhere in between.
It’s a weird time of year in Los Angeles. The grind and hustle of the entertainment business magically disappears. Friends are leaving town to be with family so my social circle dwindles down. This is all fine with me because I just want to nest anyway, lie in my bed, fetal position, and finally watch SMILF. But underneath all the idleness is a low-level sadness, and I’m not sure why.
This year has actually been good for me. Frankly, my best year yet…in every area of my life. I’ve more than doubled my income, I mustered up the courage to finally be heard and started this blog, I’ve been asked to do a handful of legit and professional shows, I’ve deepened some friendships with amazing and powerful women, reconnected with friends from my childhood which was incredibly healing, annnnnnd I’ve started to date someone whom I really like. So...what’s this sadness?
Well, okay. Fine. After writing that list, I actually do feel good. BUT… when I’m not writing that list, I experience this weight that plants itself on me this time of year. Do I consistently need to be reminding myself of all the good things in my life to avoid this funk? Or should I just feel the funk? Perhaps dabble in it? Or go straight for the plunge?
So much of my life has been spent living in the funk. I feel like I was conceived in funk, born to funk, raised in funk, and I now have finally gotten out of the depths of this fucking funk. This past year has been a whole new territory for me. It hasn’t been funk-free by any means, but when I feel the slightest ounce of funk, I’m scared that I’m still in it. That it hasn’t gone away. That things aren’t changing and never will. I’m afraid all those good things that I just mentioned were all imagined or don’t mean anything anyway.
And for me, I think I DO need to feel the funk. I don’t want to be happy and grateful all the fucking time. That honestly sounds like hell. But what I need to practice is that, when leaning into the holiday blues, not to forget about how far I’ve come and all the good that I have acquired. Those things do not go away, so it’s alright to allow myself to be in my own funk. I can eat a carb or two or 2000, buy fresh flowers, maybe hang out with my aunt or not do shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit.