Fun

I'm not as fun as I used to be.

That is a realization I've had for a while. It's not new. It just came back up this week when a friend was talking about how someone she knew wasn't the same person anymore. It reminded me that, in a lot of ways, neither am I.

It's easy to "blame" things that have happened over the years as the cause of my lessened state of being fun. I grew up, I bought a house, I got married. Adult Responsibilities are serious and can't be taken lightly, at least not in my book. My husband is even more introverted than I first realized, which we chuckle about together and I do my own thing when I need. But there's also the desire to want to experience things with him that if he's not interested in doing together, then I just don't bother doing them. Add to that his health issues, which can limit where we go and what we do: he may want to join me for a walk, but he isn't physically capable sometimes.

Covid has really hit me on the head, hard. Even though get-togethers with friends had been fewer and farther between, now that I *can't* have them, I miss them. There are a whole host of considerations I now have to take into account just to invite a bunch of friends over to watch a movie, or go to the theatre, or do anything that is inside. This time of year is especially difficult. I don't like the cold, I don't do many winter activities, so most things I would want to do are inside, and I've been limited now for 3 years. It's getting old. Especially when a lot of the world, and even close friends, have stopped masking and treating Covid like it's over. It's officially still a pandemic, I looked it up yesterday. It feels like the world is moving on without me and similar to social media, everyone else is out there having a ton of fun while I'm stuck at home in my cold basement.

What am I comparing against, and is it a fair comparison? When I look back at doing fun things in my life, pre-Covid and even pre-smartphones, a lot of it hinges on my best friend at the time. There was laughter, dancing, shopping, writing movie reviews. But then she changed. She started a relationship with someone who brought out some bad traits in her. I didn't agree with the choices she was making in treating other people. Smartphones came and she was one of the first people I really felt loved their phone more than their friends standing in front of them. In short, my "partner in crime" was gone. I watched as we went through our lives and our careers, and it seemed like she was still having a ton of fun and didn't have as many Adult Responsibilities, or she was just able to get past the downs and still have a good time. It didn't work that way for me.

In 2015, my depression had gotten so bad that I finally accepted that I needed to talk to my doctor about medication. There was no single cause to my depression; some might call it a mid-life crisis but I feel that's too cliché and not nuanced enough to really describe what happened. Sure, it was the standard realizations that come to most people in their 40s: is this all there is in life? Things probably aren't going to be better than they are now? I'm old enough now that my income will basically be in this range for the rest of my life, so no more significant upward mobility (without huge changes)? I'm not as great as I thought I was? I probably won't accomplish anything great from here on out? 

Then there were the specific issues. The mistakes I made putting my heart & soul into a job, a business, that didn't value me the same way in return. There were no specific broken promises, just a naive view of working hard garnering rewards. I was rewarded with being a manager in name only, having to hire or lay people off without being part of the decision, and then watching as my whole department was outsourced and left with a company that didn't quite know what to do with me after that was done. They wanted me to pivot into a new role, but had no concrete plans for what that role would be. Although I don't think it was conscious or intentional, they drove me to quit and they had the relief of not having to pay severance. I took a very significant pay cut and moved on to another job. I had to put myself back together with the help of my husband, my mother, and, disappointingly, very few friends. Although I learned a lot from that experience, I also have a lot of regrets. Pouring your life and identity into a job, without having a stake in it, was the wrong move. I stayed there too long. I let my depression go too far. I let work become my identity. It then kicked me to the curb and stomped on me. I felt betrayed. This isn't how life was supposed to turn out. I was supposed to work hard, move up the ladder, take on more responsibility, make more money. That's what I'd been told by society and my parents' generation. I'd already failed in becoming a CA and the opportunity to "do anything I want" afterward, so this just added to the pile.

Meanwhile, my ex-best friend is on social media with her cool clothes and her fun job. Yes, I kept in mind that social media only presents what the user wants, which is positive. But in addition to that, when I would still see her in person, she wouldn't give the "real" story then either. If she'd even speak to or look at me. I'm still not quite sure what I did, other than not be a smartphone. Or that I just wasn't fun enough to be around anymore. I was extremely negative and friends were tired of hearing of how bad my job was without me doing something about it. What they didn't realize was that extreme negativity was a warning flare. I was depressed and needed help. Most of them didn't get it and avoided me to avoid the negativity. I was too deep to properly express what was going on and that I needed help. It still irks me when the current focus on mental health comes up, and those friends are posting about how important mental health is. I hope they learned how to identify the warning signs and will react differently in the future. I know it's too much to ask they reflect on the past and how they dropped the ball with me. Ultimately it was my problem, not theirs, and I was fortunate to have support from those who mattered most. But one of my character flaws is holding grudges.

The new job, along with medication, made a huge difference. I was absolutely terrified of the change after almost 15 years at the previous job. But I made new friends, and I had actual fun at work again. Getting support and kudos from co-workers was a foreign, but good, feeling. It lasted for a couple of years, until gov't b.s. and pay rates drove some of my new friends away. I was also no longer my boss' shiny new toy, he had moved on to others, and thus I suddenly wasn't as great as I used to be. But I digress from that tangent.

Covid came. What fun I was having was replaced with fear. This week, I marked 3 years of working full time from home. I have no clear idea when I could go back safely and without masking every day. There are some definite advantages to working from home, and lately it has been more appealing as I don't have to worry about snowstorms or parking even farther away from my office than before due to construction. The sad truth is, even if I did go back full time, the people that made it worthwhile are now either gone from the company or working from home themselves. It was a time that's now lost.

Over the last few months, I've been helping a friend after her brother's sudden death. That has brought up a whole host of sad thoughts on which I won't get into detail. Suffice it to say it hasn't been a happy time, with the exception of reconnecting with my friend and a good feeling of being able to help someone I care about. I am also reminded of more Adult Responsibilities that I've been avoiding but need to be completed, mainly wills.

I think what I've outlined here explains why I'm not as fun as I used to be. It's justified. Life has whipped me into submission to be the Responsible Adult who does her chores and fun has to come later, if there's time. Going back to the question of it being a fair comparison: no, it's not. The world has changed too much for that.

So what do I do about it?

I need help again, this time from myself. Without focusing on others who have changed as being the sole keyholders to fun. I need to, as safely as I can, get back to doing things that make me happy. I definitely need to spend less time scrolling through social media and actually DO some things. If I don't have someone to do them with, then I need to not make that an excuse if it can be done [happily] alone.

I'm not making any commitments here. I have no idea whether life will decide to smite me tomorrow. But just getting this out and written down has helped. Even if I appear totally off-base to someone else, this is my reality.