My Year of Bed-rotting and Reflection

A newsletter for the last day of 2024.

Welcome to Blaxplaining, a biweekly newsletter featuring reflections and notes from a Black woman navigating life. If you like this newsletter, make sure you subscribe and share it with your friends!

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Annie Lee’s “Blue Monday” depicts a tired Black woman sitting on the edge of her bed preparing for the workday ahead.

Hey readers,

We did it y’all! We made it to the last day of the year. I hope you all are having a great holiday season! It’s been a while since my last newsletter, but I don’t know—since the election, I haven’t done any real work to accept reality and the state of the world. It’s a little tone-deaf to admit, but I had to stop the doom-scrolling and the nightly news watch to go outside and touch some grass. I did write a Note on the Substack App about my November favorites, though. You can check that out here. Now that the new year approaches us, and we’re in that time-lagging period during Christmas and New Year’s, I thought it would be a perfect time to reflect on this past year with you all. For starters, 2024 has been a quiet and uneventful one, but also a year of reflection and deep insight. The year started with me contemplating leaving South Korea, and it ends with me spending the holidays at home with my family for the first time in three years. I figured it would be a transitional year, but nothing could have prepared me for the emotional rollercoaster 2024 would surely be.

My desire for rest guided my decision to leave my life abroad. I expected to spend my gap year exploring new hobbies, reading, writing, or doing whatever my heart desired. And I did. Most days, I slept an average of ten hours, watched movies, played video games, and even took up Pinterest boarding, so I can’t say that my reality was too far off from expectations. But after some time, my ‘freedom’ and respite from the real world became some sort of a burden. There was this overbearing need to be productive and catch up with my peers. Instead of rest and recovery, it became a period of restlessness and anxiety.

I am a planner. I always have a plan, but for the first time in a while, I didn’t have one. I was confident in my decision to take a year off, but after countless questions, such as “What am I going to do next?” with no clear answer, I began to doubt myself. I certainly needed the rest, but it was off-putting that I was not working or being productive. So I pondered over and over about what to do next, but the more I thought about the next steps, the more anxious and sedentary I became. Then came the bed-rotting and the negative thoughts. “I am in my thirties, with no job, no prospects, and living in my parents’ home” was something I often thought of myself. My accomplishments and the financial and professional attributes I acquired no longer mattered. I was back home again, just like after graduating college and just like the onset of the pandemic – other periods where I felt lost and insecure. It felt like I hadn’t progressed in life; even more so, it was a crushing reminder that I had to start over from scratch yet again.

But all is not doom and gloom. Being around family, going to therapy, and leaving the house ever so often puts everything into perspective: that these feelings I have are not reality and that home is where I need to be right now. This year taught me that my worth is not tied to my productivity. I also learned that my life doesn’t have to be full of great ambition and is no less whole because I didn’t reach certain milestones. Lastly, I’ve become more appreciative of the people caring for me and recognized my privilege in taking a gap year. And it’s those lessons that I will take into the new year. I do wish, however, that I had done this year a little differently – that I worried less about what the future may bring. I still have days where the intrusive thoughts bother me, but it’s just a reminder that I am still a work in progress. Anyway, I look forward to getting rid of my imposter syndrome, being more consistent with this newsletter, and taking one day at a time next year. Here’s to rest, reflection, and leaving the house more often. Here’s to 2025!

Happy New Year, everyone. And as always, thanks for reading!

- Tyler