If you don’t know what a radio silence is, here is what Google says:
a period during which one hears nothing from a normally communicative person or group.
“apologies for the radio silence but I’ve had my nose to the grindstone this week”
I’m not sure what the hell that expression is, nor who uses it but I guess the definition sums up my experience lately. And I guess my publishing this, doesn’t come out of obligation because truthfully I’ve never felt the need to write for the sake of writing, but instead a result of hopeful catharsis.
Because man, I just need to release all of this.
If you don’t know, I have PMDD and if you would like to know what that is, you can read about it here.
So yeah, after a few blissful months of regularly going to dance class, being social and learning a new language I feel right back to square one.
And that’s the real bummer about PMDD, both the inconsistencies in the way you feel and also how the treatment you seek will help you.
I for the record have been seeing an amazing naturopath who specialises in womens issues, and without the grey-coloured glasses that PMDD likes to thrown over everything, I can definitely see some positive changes.
My issues don’t lie with her at all, it’s more in the feeling of stuckness in having something you can’t cure. And also, my frustrations lie with me. Just me (ironically, also my initials).
I don’t know how much of what I’m saying is what I have and how much is the blunt reality of how it is. And if I’m being pretty damn honest, the fact that I’m 28 and beyond the ‘cute, just figuring out life n stuff’ phase, haunts me on the daily. I’ll also be likely to look back when I’m 38 and pine for this very day when I was 28, and so the cycle bloody will continue.
What it is this time, Maria? I hear the inner critic say not so quietly and maybe some of you even.
Well, simply put, I just don’t feel like myself.
If there is one thing I knew was a sure thing and something maybe I did have above everyone else who maybe had their shit slightly more together, was that I knew who I was.
I knew I was the kind of girl who didn’t want to binge drink come the weekend.
Who tried to learn how to skateboard a few times, even when someone told me I was ‘too old’ to try.
The person that would watch the World Movie Channel at 16 instead of High School Musical, or whatever crap was popular at the time.
The daughter that went backpacking through South America, despite her Greek Fathers objections and fear that she would be kidnapped by Pablo Escobar’s successor.
So yeah man, I’ve tried a bunch of different things but lately I’ve stopped trying, or rather I’ve lost the enthusiasm to try.
Instead, I’d rather spend my days binge watching YouTube or Netflix and binge eat while I’m at it.
I honestly can’t tell you what’s what.
I cant differentiate between what’s PMDD and what’s my soul crying out for a change of scenery, or change of something.
All I’m sure of is that I’m capable of making a life that’s 100 times more enriching, and yet the motivation to make a start is nowhere to be found.
And that’s really depressing, and yes incredibly self-involved.
Which brings me to another thing that has gotten me down. Regardless of the socialising and care-free times missed out on in my 20s because of hormonal imbalances and wallowing, the thing that sucks is that I’ve failed to make a positive impact in the way that I would have liked.
I’m not one of those selfless people you can say always brightens someones day, or that is raising money for an incredible charity or simply carpe dieming the shit out of everything. Beyond being an influencer, what is wayyy cooler in my opinion, is being memorable for simply being a good human being. Because I really believe big achievements are overrated if you don’t have small pieces of yourself scattered around to share on the daily.
My style lately (well most of my life), is more complaining a lot and reflecting a lot and not actioning a lot. I struggle to crack a smile at work, let a lone to send a simple ‘how are you feeling’ message to a friend. And yeah, I’m not afraid to say that I’m an incredibly self-involved person.
But, the thing is even knowing these character flaws, the search for these illusive ‘missing pieces’ of myself never really begins. I don’t look because I don’t know what it is I’m looking for.
All that I’m sure of is that I’m not happy.
I can post as many happy dancing videos on Instagram as I like, but that’s the truth of it.
I don’t know if writing this has made me feel any better, but it has taken the pressure off keeping it to myself and maybe that’s my gift of sharing for the day.
It’s definitely time to regroup to reconsider what’s important and what needs to go, the only advice I can offer up is to do the same if you’re also feeling stuck.
Ciao for now xoxo gossip girl