Enough is enough. I’m exhausted, and no, this time I’m
not complaining about lack of sleep... Content fatigue is a thing and it’s
currently hitting me hard. I’ve come to the realisation that I’m trying to
consume too much, sometimes all at once and it’s all consuming.
I’ve just caught myself doing it. Picture this; I’m on my
lunch break, trying to fit in reading Refinery29's latest think piece on
antiquated wedding traditions, whilst re-listening to the Teacher’s Pet podcast
because I kept zoning out of it last night, as I was too busy try to formulate
a meaningful opinion on Call Me By Your Name even though I’d only just got
round to watching it (about a year too late), all whilst panicking that I
missed last night’s GBBO so I won’t be able to talk to anyone at work today.
AND BREATHE.
Don’t even get me started on the anxiety inducing, growing
pile of books on my bedside table, the pile that one night is definitely going
to topple over and dispatch me in my sleep. Books are my real weakness, my true
downtime joy. Even though I’m broke I can’t stop buying them! However, recently
I’ve found myself not having the time to pick up that book placed perilously at
the top of the pile because I’ve got too many other things to catch up on. The
reason why books get left behind is because they stand still. The story doesn’t
change, and it’s not going anywhere. I can pick up The Incendiaries today or
this time next year and it will have the same meaning. Online cultural think
pieces and podcasts won’t. I can’t be a year too late reading about the current
Xanax epidemic, the protests in Ireland against Pope Francis or Theresa May’s
bad dancing as they won’t mean as much. I will have missed the moment. These
stories are ever evolving and I’m desperately trying to keep up.
Ultimately, I blame Dolly Alderton and Pandora Sykes. The
High Low is a gateway drug into the ever growing world of podcasts and I’m now
addicted. True Crime is my crack. Desert Island Discs is my dirty drug secret.
I can’t help myself. I go out of my way to walk everywhere just so that I can
listen to a full episode of BBC’s Unpopped. I’ve nearly been flattened by
cyclists because I’m so wrapped up in a heated debate about the demise of the ‘party
girl’.
It’s completely overwhelming. There’s too much
outstanding content out there and all so readily available. It’s not a surprise
that I feel that I can’t keep up. I find myself completely missing the boat on
things. Queer Eye for instance has completely passed me by as I couldn’t find
time to fit it in between the other 4 series I have on the go. The Handmaid’s Tale
is another. This means I’m regularly part of group conversations where I can’t
have any input because I haven’t got round to watching it just yet.
From now on I’ve decided I’m only going to consider other
people’s recommendations if they truly appeal to me. Despite rave reviews from
my brother, Dad and friends I know Westworld is just not for me. An amazing
cast (hello James Marsden and Evan Rachel Wood) and trippy plotlines ain’t
going to change that. I’m going to stop watching/listening/reading things just
to be part of a conversation because it’s gruelling. I find myself sometimes
doing things just for appearances anyway, Love Island I’m talking about you. I
watched it for the first time this year essentially to be part of conversations
for the 8 weeks it was endured by the nation. Just thinking of what else I
could have done with the 66 hours of my life I spent watching Love Island,
makes me squirm.
What I’m taking from this is that I need to learn that it’s
okay to give up on something. It should never be deemed as a failure if you’re
not getting anything from it. Life is too short to see something through if you’re
not really enjoying it, even if everyone else is. You wouldn’t date someone that
your mother likes but you find distinctly average, so why should you endure The
Revenant just because Leo won an Oscar?
It’s actually really refreshing to hear someone say that
they stopped reading their book because they didn’t enjoy the writing style, or
that they found the protagonist too narcissistic to relate to. These are the
opinions that start the real, interesting debates. I respect that person far more
for knowing when to stop, than grinning and bearing Eleanor Oliphant Is
Completely Fine because their colleague loved it.
Who is with me? I’m pushing back on the sometimes crushing
amount of content and being as picky with it as I am in other aspects of my
life. If I can live my life not eating tomatoes I can live my life not watching
The Office. Ja Feel?
I love this so much!! It is so easy to get caught up in EVERYTHING and then constantly feeling like you'll never be able to do "enough". I'm learning the same lesson and it's not easy to reel yourself back in sometimes, but it's so worth it. Thank you for this, seriously. ❤
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