The Bad "B," "H," and "S"-Words

 Gun's Quote:

"...I'm bored."

-Me

I am a firm believer that the greatest gift we have is life. Without getting in to too much philosophy behind that idea, understand that there is no guarantee you will survive the day. I live in Kansas; A tornado may blow my house away tomorrow. A drunk driver can rear-end me into oncoming traffic. I might be at a ball game and a mass shooter shows up and I'm shot. Of course, living in a pandemic, we all know somebody who has had their life altered - or lost - by this terrible disease. We all just assume that we fall asleep and wake up the next morning, and those of us with general good health and youth quickly forget that may not be the case.

Having this belief, I'm very much a busybody, feeling like I need to be "doing something" at every moment of every day. Frankly, the attitude was quite unhealthy at points in life and got me in trouble on more than one occasion. I would over commit, over volunteer, or simply stretch myself too thin. While I wanted to "make the most out of every moment," you can (and I did) take it too far.

...But boredom? No. Never. I would NEVER, EVER allow myself to be bored. That, in my mind, was one of the worst possible things that could befall the human condition. To have this precious gift of life wasted by not knowing what to do or how to spend your time was an abomination that I couldn't comprehend. There was always something to do, be it work, leisure, sleep, prayer, whatever. To do nothing was horrific.

So, to sit in Bill's office, discussing The Plateau, and trying to find words to describe it, I probably spent at least a month (if not a little longer) avoiding the word altogether. To admit that I was bored was to admit not just that I was wasting the gift of life, but that I was violating one of my deepest, most principled values.

"Maybe you need a Hobby," he said.

Oh God. The "H"-word.

On and off, well-intentioned family and friends discussed the "H"-word with me. I quickly dismissed it. I didn't need something else to occupy my time, collect dust or otherwise spend my money on. It wasn't that I didn't already have plenty to do; it was that I was no longer experiencing joy doing what I was doing. Things that used to be fun, weren't. Things that used to be rewarding, weren't. Things that used to make me happy, weren't. So, to me, a "Hobby" was the last thing I needed. What I NEEDED was to find the joy in the things I was doing again. I didn't want to change them, I just wanted to change how I FELT about them.

"And how do you intend to do that?" Bill asked, with that smirk that he has when he knows he has defeated my logical reasoning.

If you want the outputs to be different, you must change the inputs. This implied two very important things:

1. The inputs (job, volunteering, friend group, etc.) were actually changing. I had to admit that I didn't enjoy certain things any longer because the people I was hanging out with, working with or volunteering with were different.
2. If the inputs were different now than they once were, I either needed to find new inputs (The "Hobby") or change the current inputs. (Different job, different volunteering, different friends, etc.)

I wanted none of the above. I wanted to go back to the way things used to be.

"All or Nothing Thinking."

Dammit.

...

I picked five hobbies to try:

1. Playing Guitar: This one just wasn't fun for me. Could I learn it? Maybe... the learning curve was steep and there was going to be a LONG time before I saw myself enjoying it. I didn't think I had the patience and the little tunes I did manage to crank out made me feel "Meh."
2. Singing: Some friends and family are in choir. They all seem to enjoy it. That said, I didn't like the idea of singing lessons, and I sure as hell wasn't going to show up to choir practice without having any idea of whether or not I could even hold a tune. That, and I have this rather odd self-consciousness about my voice.
3. Golf: Oh hell no. Too much money, ridiculously high frustration, I'm not naturally gifted with fine-motor skills anyway, and you'll get a sunburn. Let's spend a bunch of money on a sport that you'll suck at for years and probably still suck at in years. No wonder people get drunk playing this thing. It's basically masochism.
4. Disc Golf: Better. At least it costed way less, although I did feel guilty when I lost one of my friend's discs because I didn't own any and he let me borrow his. Still, getting frustrated with not getting the disc where I wanted it to go was going to keep me from enjoying this one long-term. I did like being outside, though...
5. Java: I actually enrolled in an online Java class. I took a programming class in college and enjoyed it, but nothing could prepare me for this learning curve. I have NEVER struggled in a class like that before. I could not figure out Java to save my life. It's rare that I take a class and feel genuinely dumb, but this was one of those times.

It was pretty dejecting to try the above and come up flat. It was a diverse list, something that I thought at the very least would point me in a direction. Aside from the fact that I liked being outside, I had nothing.

I was bored, and I had no idea what to do.

Of course, I had an interest in motorcycles, but that's all it was: An interest. Perhaps it was a curiosity. They were cool. The people on them were cool. I thought this since at least high school. One of my fraternity brothers had a bike. It was cool. He was cool. I went on a Colorado hiking trip last summer. There were a bunch of bikers parked at the continental divide. They were cool, too.

After seeing one go by, however, I would always say to myself, "I could never ride one. I'd kill myself on that thing."

"I could never ride one, my mother would flip out."

"I could never ride one..."

I don't remember when it happened, I just remember that it did. Years had gone by with those statements unchecked. Suddenly, abruptly, without warning, my CBT Alarm Bell went off:

OH. SHIT. THAT'S AN AUTOMATIC NEGATIVE THOUGHT!

I found myself staring down the throat of an ANT that had been attacking me for years. This time, though, was different. How have I been missing this all this time?

ANT: "I could never ride a motorcycle."

Cognitive Distortion: Jumping to Conclusions

Challenge: ...

I stared at the spreadsheet, the "Challenge" column empty. I'm sitting there, staring, shaking, with shivers going up and down my spine, because the only way that ANT was going to get challenged was with the following statement:

"You could learn."

OH.

SHIT.

...and that's why it's a Gun's Quote!!