I grew up believing I was just an extremely lazy person. Even though many friends and strangers told me I was smart and had so much potential, I never believed it because I was never proactive about my future. I watched many friends develop career goals and make moves to achieve those goals, and I am super proud all of of them. I wanted to aspire to be like them, but I just never acted. I didn't know how to find motivation or direction.
My mom frequently called me lazy because she would catch me during my breaks from my homework assignments. She called me lazy because I didn't do more in my free time. The irony of the previous statement is my mom didn't allow me to do extracurricular activities for most of my teen years; I always had to go home after school and not go outside unless it was to accompany her somewhere. So I stayed home, did homework, read books, listened to music, watched TV, and surfed the Internet. When I was feeling brave, I'd ask my mom if I could go to the movies, a birthday party, or a school play. I sometimes had to deal with her anger before she'd finally say yes, probably because she saw how much I wanted to go or how sad I looked.
It was only in my junior year of high school when one of my classes had an extra requirement to choose between joining our school's Model UN club or doing something else. I chose the MUN club and told my mom it was a requirement, and she begrudgingly allowed me to stay after school once a week so that I could attend the meetings and do research. And she had to let me stay on the days where we had mock trials or went to actual MUN conferences. In my senior year, I lied about having to continue being in the club as a requirement for class. Instead, I just joined the club because I wanted to and my friends were still a part of it. I had to lie so that I could do things after school at school.
Also, during my senior year, I was in our ASB elective class; so I was allowed to stay after school frequently to help prep for school events. The upside of my mom not being very involved in my education, aside from confirming that I had straight A's, was that I could choose my classes without her input. The decision to join ASB was intentional. I wanted to be involved in school and in the things that my friends were doing. (I think this is partially the reason why I have fond memories of my school years; school was the only place for me to connect with anyone.)
Looking back, I know I wasn't any lazier than the average teen was. If I wanted to do something school-related or otherwise, I did it, if I was allowed or lied my way into it. I'm not trying to blame my mom. I know she worried about me falling in with the wrong crowds if she let me do what I wanted, and she had a very narrow view of what success and security meant for a teenager. But because of her trying to control my life, I wasn't allowed to explore many options. I felt trapped into doing what I thought my mom wanted me to do (get good grades) while never actually finding a direction for my future. So I just didn't do anything when I was home.
Anyway, as an adult, I learned to acknowledge that I was not lazy, at least not always or not as frequently as my mom claimed. I was definitely directionless and apathetic, but I was likely dealing with undiagnosed depression as a teen. The thought of that possibility had passed through my brain several times ever since I had learned what depression was at age 13, but I always told myself there were people out there with worse problems; I didn't even know what my problem was. And I had friends who cut themselves. Obviously, compared to them, my problems weren't that bad. My suicidal ideation wasn't a problem because I never actively took steps to harm or kill myself. I just felt conflicting emotions; there was inner turmoil, apathy, longing, rage, and disconnectedness. The consistent thought was "If I wasn't alive, I wouldn't have to feel this anymore, and I wouldn't continue disappointing my family."
I didn't fully prepare for college because I didn't think I was going to be alive by the time I was 18. I did the minimum of applying for universities that didn't require an essay. "Why put in all that effort if I might not be alive to attend?" I didn't have active plans to end my life. I just didn't see a future with myself in it.
I'm well past my teens, but I only started to acknowledge my depression in my mid 20's. Therapy didn't happen until I was almost 29 and in a crisis. Anxiety, depression, PTSD. I got better. I am better now. I still struggle. I stopped going to therapy earlier this year because I moved out of state and my therapist isn't licensed outside of California. I haven't tried to find a new therapist yet because I don't want to jump into online therapy with a new person and therapy is so damn expensive. I've had brief moments of questioning how I'm going to survive life without therapy. I'm really glad they're brief. I'm still alive haha.
All right, I went on some tangents away from where this post started.
Recently, I have felt very lazy toward work. I mean I still do the work, but I don't want to do it. So I guess the better description would be "I feel unmotivated at work." But I categorize that under laziness out of habit. I talked to some coworkers about how I was feeling, and they said they were feeling the same way. They pointed out that I just switched to another team and had been training new hires, helping with documentation, kicking off a side project, and answering a steady stream of questions from various teams; it was okay to feel overworked and overwhelmed. And they called what I was feeling "burnout," which set off the alarms in my head. "Oh yeah, I'm experiencing burnout." I used to feel it every six months or so because it would go away after a short vacation. Now, it feels like I experience it all the time no matter if I take a day or a week off from work. Probably because I know, when I return to work, there's a pile of emails, questions, and issues to deal with.
So I was asking myself why I was calling myself lazy instead of saying I was dealing with stress and burnout. Partly, I compare myself with other people and see them pushing past their stress to get things done, while I feel like I don't do that. But I also realized, when I call myself lazy, I hear my mom's voice, saying "quá lười" (too lazy). I don't give myself the same emotional support I give my friends when they share similar feelings. I tell my friends they deserve to take breaks and what they do is enough or more than enough. I don't always feel the same way about my efforts because my job title isn't as great or high as my friends' job titles are, even if the stress may sometimes be on par.
I spend more energy believing I'm lazy than acknowledging when I'm putting in work. It's hard to break out of the habit of calling myself lazy, even while I am making an effort to get things done.
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The purpose of this whole thought dump was to say: I label my handling of stress, anxiety, and depression as laziness. And I've learned the voice in my head that calls me lazy actually belongs to my mom. I don't think anyone else in my entire life has ever seriously described me as lazy. Yet, that's the first descriptor I use for myself.
I probably should go back to therapy sometime to work through this. My therapy sessions in California left off on my dubious sense of motivation, agency, and planning. I've been unable to plan very far ahead because I still don't see the future with me in it. Not like I want to die. But I just can't actively see myself in the future. I don't know what I want. I'm so used to doing things with other people's goals in mind; I don't have any longterm goals other than to survive.
Tbh, moving out of California was probably the biggest decision I've ever made in my life, and I did it. Granted, I still kinda looked for my mom's approval before I did it (old habits die hard). Anyway, I think moving out of state definitely disqualifies me from being a lazy person haha. At the beginning of January, I suddenly made the decision to move with one of my closest friends; by the beginning of March, for the first time in my life, I was no longer a resident of California.
Cognitively, I know I'm not a lazy person, but I can't help but feel that I am one anyway. Despite all the effort I put into doing anything, I feel lazy. It's frustrating that I won't believe otherwise haha.
