Real talk: I have quite literally been procrastinating on getting this newsletter up and running for at least eight months. Eight months. I could have a mostly gestated baby hanging out in my guts by now. MOSTLY GESTATED! Like, seriously, a whole ass baby.
In other words: I’m very aware that shit has gotten out of hand.
My problem with procrastinating has one hundred percent, very definitely gotten worse as I’ve gotten older. I used to be a young, carefree Brooklynite housing six plus IPAs a night, surrounded by friends—not a care in the world. Now I’m older, living in a garbage-filled dystopia (see: Philadelphia) that doesn’t dazzle or inspire me; I’ve worked even more jobs with even more racists; I’ve been deflated by a barrage of miseries—mostly grief and burnout, and also I’m aware that “barrage of miseries” sounds dramatic, but I don’t know man, it’s true!—and in turn, I’ve become less confident, treated myself with less self-compassion, and otherwise have become a shell of the person I used to be. I think, of course, this is all part of FIGURING IT OUT, which I’m doing, don’t worry, I’m fine, I really am.
HEY-O! You’re reading the free version of SPIRAL, but if you can afford it, it would be really cool if you subscribed to the paid version of SPIRAL to support me and my slightly out-of-control gummy habit (and staying alive habit, lol).
While the smart part of my brain knows that procrastinating isn’t good for me, it’s become a sort of security blanket. Apparently, according to some experts or whatever, procrastination is self-harm, and psychological self-harm feels very on brand for me. I’m a moody bitch, and I’m good at finding things I don’t like about myself, and I like being good at things even if they are bad for me, so here we are.
“People engage in this irrational cycle of chronic procrastination because of an inability to manage negative moods around a task,” says one of the expert people, Dr. Fuschia Sirois. Negative moods around a task? That’s all I have, baby. Especially when it comes to writing. I think, “Will anyone give a shit? Will everyone just be like, ‘Ew, what the fuck is this bitch doing?’ Will this go anywhere? Is there any point?” And then, “Why are you like this, Rachael? What is your deal? Why can’t you be better?” And then, self-defeated and full up on self-flagellation, I curl up in a ball and binge watch TV while an invisible block of anxiety sits on my chest weighing me down. It’s um, a lot, lol. Mental illness, am I right?
But lately, I’ve been trying to get out of that toxic cycle. Lately, I’ve been thinking about this thing that this really hot professor said to me in office hours, once—the one who recently, briefly dated hot ass Padma Lakshmi for a hot ass minute: “Do you write to be good, or do you write to express yourself, to learn more about yourself, to have a deeper understanding of who you are?”
So here I am.
This newsletter is basically my way of not procrastinating, or at the very least, procrastinating on one type of writing by doing another type of writing, so it feels good instead of bad. It’s also a way for me to be kinder to myself, and let people see who I am, even the parts that I’ve deemed too EW! for the past couple of years. Let’s call it growth, or whatever.
Let’s have fun and hopefully it won’t be too depressing, and if it is too depressing, hopefully it will be a little funny. Let’s laugh at my misery, TOGETHER.
P.S. I’m in Kingston, New York because I keep threatening to move here. The first time I came here, I was like, WOW VERY DIVERSE, but this time, I’m straining my damn neck looking for a Fellow Black. It should come as no surprise, then, that I was just mistaken for (who I assume is) the only other Black woman who comes into this bar? And it’s confusing because do I even look like an Amber? Also, Amber better fucking be just shy of 5 foot 2 with giant glasses and dreadlocks or someone is getting GOT tonight.
P.P.S. I think I just spotted Amber, and she IS Black and short with glasses and faux locs and a Zeppelin sized dog, so I’m considering excusing this Episode of Racism, Part 328319 by 10%. Verdict: Still racist, but I guess she’s hot so it’s a little bit fine.