“Hi, I’m so sorry I’m just seeing this. I’ve been feeling really drained so I haven’t checked my messages in a while,” I type and hit send for probably the fifth time today. The same deeply apologetic and guilt-ridden text that does a tour of my inbox every time I muster enough strength to reply.
The task of justifying my absence from my friends’ lives feels so distressing. No matter how sincere my attempt, my words often end up sounding more like a ludicrous excuse than any sort of valid justification.
The pandemic has caused an upheaval in our individual and community lives. It has changed, perhaps irreversibly, how we look after ourselves and those we care about. Its influence on the level and quality of our participation in our interpersonal relationships has been different for all of us.
Still, a prevailing sentiment right now is that about two years of apprehension and adjusting to a ‘new world order’ has left some of us with a prolonged sense of social burnout.
How The Pandemic Has Made It Worse
Emotional exhaustion, chronic fatigue, low energy levels or other struggles may be responsible for our inability to contribute to or take charge of our relationships unlike earlier.
The reason may even be independent of the consequences of the pandemic. However, with almost every human exchange re-moulded into a digital interaction, there is an added pressure to be perpetually available and accessible through text, video or voice.
This is because a considerable part of our existence is now online– a domain without any space or time restrictions. Or because we are assumed to have more time on our hands now that we mostly stay home.
According to a report by We Are Social and Hootsuit, people across the world will spend a total of 3.7 trillion hours on social media in 2021, equivalent to more than 420 million calendar years. Existing in such a hyper-active space and being constantly flooded with information has got most of us feeling digitally burnt out.
In this regard, the incapacity to live up to others’ expectations often leaves us with feelings of guilt and helplessness. The former because people naturally have a tendency to take things we do or don’t do personally.
Though our lack of enthusiasm to revert to a bunch of reels or voice notes may just be an outcome of our individual circumstances, it could probably be construed as a sign of a failing friendship or our self-importance. The latter because we realise, sooner or later, that there’s not much we can do to prove otherwise.
For me, this guilt further intensifies every time I’m hit with the realisation that living through a pandemic means that every person I care about is probably going through a rough time too.
So, my inability to have a simple conversation with them translates into me not being able to help them out in any way. That this might hold them back from ever reaching out or opening up in the future hovers over my head.
Moreover, with online workspaces and stretched work timings, there has been an inevitable blurring of boundaries between our downtime and office hours. It is not uncommon for a meeting to be conducted at say 10 pm, simply because we are now aware of that possibility.
People could also be judged for the emotional distance they maintain or the informal zoom calls and conversations they sit out. This is bound to make them feel exhausted and/or unreasonably guilty.
“What’s really surprising to me is how the entire concept of fixed working hours is just absent from online workspaces. If it were offline, I knew that after I come back from college and society meetings, I’d have that time all by myself to relax.
But now we have meetings scheduled at odd hours and we’re expected to be available all the time. I’ve tried setting healthy boundaries and saying no to some stuff, but it has left me with unbearable guilt. We don’t have open conversations about work-life balance here and I think we need it now more than ever,” said Anushka*, a student of Economics at Lady Shri Ram College for Women.
Even so, when we do push ourselves to reply or initiate a conversation only to not appear rude or indifferent, the overwhelming desire to make amends and resolve any misunderstandings usually drains our energy even further.
“I’ve been apologetic for my poor texting habits for the past few years now. On top of that, ever since the pandemic, I feel this urge to overcompensate every time I get back to a friend after a long time.
Most of my conversations revolve around my absence, leading me to say kind words I might not even mean otherwise. And the feeling of not wanting to be any more trouble has erased my ability to be vulnerable with anyone,” Zara*, an undergraduate student at Delhi Technological University told YKA.
You Can’t Pour From An Empty Cup
Since we spend the majority of our time indoors now, the specific environment of our homes also has a direct bearing on our moods, emotions and spirits.
People living in nurturing, amicable homes are likely to feel energised and excited to share their joy with others. Contrarily, if we’re in chronic-conflict environments, we are bound to feel worn out even before we engage in any conversations.
I guess going forward it would help to take into account just how tired we all are after spending months in adversity. We cannot expect ourselves to behave in the same way as another if our headspace doesn’t feel the same.
Simply accepting our present limitations, whether they seem reasonable or not, might give us the time and space we need to overcome them.
“Over time I’ve realised that I can’t pour from an empty cup— none of us can. I’ve become more accepting of my needs. It’s okay to not be available all the time. There’s some relief in knowing that,” Zara* added.
We must extend this compassion to our friends and family as well. Likewise, we should expect them to be just as understanding with us or set boundaries and communicate them if and when needed.