Busy Girl Prestige

is this a cry for help?

You know those days where your mom calls you and gently has an intervention about your neurotically busy schedule and how the stress is probably taking years off your life? No? Just me?

Right before we got off the phone my mom dropped that she and my stepdad were worried about how overwhelmed and rushed I seem. “Are you doing too much?” she asked, as if it wasn’t a rhetorical question.

And ok fine, I admit that I have a lot on my plate. Too much, some would say. But I’m doing it…? So that makes it ok, right?

My mom encouraged me to create a “cost vs. joy” analysis to see if there was anything in my life that I was doing that could be cut.

Welp. Luckily, I do a lot of things that bring me joy. That has honestly never been a problem; it’s just that I do too many things that bring me joy. I also made a “$ per hour vs. time” chart but I won’t bore you with my science experiment.

But regardless of my life analysis, the reality is that I’m feeling the amalgamation of everything. I do feel scatter-brained, unable to respond to texts in a timely manner, and find my bucket emptying faster than usual.

This isn’t a new phenomena. If you knew me in college, this was my homeostasis. Busy was Mal. Mal was busy. It didn’t phase me. But now as I enter my more geriatric years, I’m sensitive to the exhaustion, burnout, and lack of downtime. My capacity, or indefatigable energy, has dwindled.

And honestly I hate the “busy girl” prestige. I no longer believe being — appearing — busy is a measure of my worth or character. It certainly doesn’t make me better than anyone else. In fact, I would argue that my ceaseless need to fill every moment of my day with work is more like a disease than a character strength.

I admitted to Ryan earlier today that the worst part is that if I cut anything out of my schedule I’ll just fill it with something else. I don’t know how to create space for nothing. Stopping a job or cutting something out of my schedule is just a bandaid. It doesn’t actually heal that underlying need to be busy or productive. And I truly do not know what will heal that.

Let’s take a fun, quick look at the biopsychosocial model. Biology, namely genetics, is not on my side here. I have two of the most neurotically busy parents who have ever existed. I have their genes coursing through my veins every day. Psychologically, I am an anxious bean with OCD, so can’t say that particularly helps. And socially, I live in the DMV area which is considered to be the 6th hardest working city in the nation (many, many spots in front of NYC, might I add). I am surrounded by ambitious, hard working, and passionate friends who don’t always set the best boundaries on their work lives either.

Now I’m not blaming my genes, my brain, or my friends, but I, just like you, am a product of these components. How can we manage to alter our hardwiring and patterns when so many things are stacked against us?

If I was trying to end this in a helpful way, I would say some bullshit about “starting small” or creating tiny habits. And sure, try that. But the reality is that you have to want to change in order to change. And while I can admit that I have too much on my plate, I am terrified of life with less. Even if it might actually be more in the long term. Who would I even be without a packed google cal and constant anxiety?

Probably still Mal.