I don’t enjoy anything anymore.
It started around sophomore year of college. And it’s getting worse.
I find it really hard to sit, enjoy myself, and feel present. Every moment, I’m wishing for the next one. Every weekday, I’m waiting for the weekend. While I’m eating dinner, I’m thinking about breakfast.
I don’t know if this is a “me” problem, or a generational problem. It could have something to do millennials/GenZers obsession with technology. The dopamine rush we get from checking our phones is short-lived and shallow, but addicting. It keeps us on our toes, always looking to the future, to the next notification.The constant onslaught of messages, emails, likes, etc. distracts us from being in the present and immersed in the world around us.
Or it could be a human problem. I have heard that it’s not “adaptive” for humans to be happy, fulfilled, and present, because then you are easy prey. Get too comfortable, and you’ll be eaten by a mountain lion. It makes sense, evolutionarily, why focusing on the future, worrying about what could go wrong, would help you survive.
Whatever the cause, this problem is particularly bad for me. I can’t even sit and watch a television show anymore without wishing I was doing something else (but I don’t know what). All day while I’m at work, I’m waiting for work to be over so I can “relax.” But once I can finally relax, I don’t know what to do with myself. Everything seems boring. Nothing satisfies me. Whatever I do, I feel I should be doing something else. So I end up scrolling through instagram. The only things that really make me feel present/bring me satisfaction in the moment are food, drugs, and alcohol. How sad is that? I’ll become a fat drug addict. Lovely.
It’s gotten worse as I’ve gotten older. I know I keep coming back to the “when I was a kid…” thing, but so many things WERE better as a kid. When I was a kid, I was always present. I loved playing games with my sisters and brothers, immersing myself in the moment. I was truly happy. I often got that amazing, excited, wondrous, nervous, curious feeling that meant “anything is possible.”
I know I can return to that state; I was there before, so I can be there again. That’s why people meditate I think. But on some level, by brain doesn’t want to get there. My brain likes being busy and stressed and never present. There’s some kind of perverse satisfaction in it. Just like there’s some kind of perverse, self-pitying satisfaction in feeling sad; you feel like your sadness makes you wiser and more thoughtful and more human than everyone else. You’ll find it if you look hard enough. It’s hard to put into words.
Anyway, I felt like venting about this issue before starting work this morning. Does anyone else have this problem?
