The Power of Doing Absolutely Nothing

Andre 3000, from “Ms. Jackson,” (2000)

I don’t always count my blessings. Some days I wake up, knowing nothing will change, but I try anyway. Go to sleep, scared to dream, knowing I’ll wake up and repeat the same thing all over again. 4–5 months since this year started. Completely stagnant.

I don’t anticipate major success or breakthrough. I’m just trying to get through. To the other side.

And I remember thinking, right before I left the house and eventually contracted Coronavirus, that I wasn’t going to keep staying inside, crying into my pillow, and trying to “power through.” I was going to dance, party, and stop worrying!

That’s what I have been doing ever since. When I was sick, I remember feeling so fatigued all I could do was sleep. I could barely get up and I didn’t want to eat. I was truly miserable.

Now I’ve fully recovered and I just feel good having done that.

Sickness teaches you about a different type of struggle. You lay in bed, begging for the days when everything was functioning properly. You could smell the roses (literally) and getting back to “normal,” is all that’s on your mind.


As far as life, I had to stop saying “I know it’s coming, I know it’s coming,” and just accept the state that I was in for what it is. I’ve gotten past situations I wouldn’t have when I was depressed for 5 years, and that’s a blessing in and of itself.

Yeah, my apartment isn’t the best! I complain, but still I rise.

And as long as I rise there’s an opportunity. To fail, laugh, scream, cry,

And dream. Dream until I hate my waking life so much that I have to change it.

And knowing nothing may will, but still trying anyway.

I could fail 100 more times and I’ll still love myself dearly. More than that degree that hasn’t given me a job, more than when family called me crazy for dropping out of grad school, and more than the love I miss and the kiss I’ve never had and the friends who outgrew me and I them.

More than everything that they told me I needed to be happy. Love, money, stability…

I don’t have none of the three and I may never find them all at the same time, comfortably tucked away as life’s worthiest treasure, but? I have me.

And that’s good enough for the Georgia gal!!!!

June 2021; my undergrad celebration

Old people with older mindsets will look and say I don’t work “hard,” enough. Or to “just find something,”, or the oh-so-dreaded, “you’re lazy,”

And I’ll look em straight in the eye and proudly say that everything is true! But I can love me still.

That’s the power that I took back. I’m not living in hiding and shame of my setbacks anymore.

I haven’t worked. It’s discouraging, but I’m not broke. Never will be!!!!

I have me,

I have me.

All the time on this earth, I wanted to climb to the peaks of the mountain tops,

But? Now I’ve stopped.

Still, still

And I have to invite that feeling until that one dream becomes real.

Maybe I’ll only see a sliver of it.

The trip outside my bedroom might be the closest I get to Italy.

And I’ll still be glad.

Not everyday, but enough of them to dilute the genuine pain.

The pain that doesn’t make it onto the page.

The pain I can’t and won’t explain.

Nope, I’ll feel myself.

Maybe it never gets better.

Maybe those days I cried were all in vain.


I’m here,

I’m here.

I don’t always want to be, but for this moment right now?

I’m free.

You know how much pressure it is to say “God has never failed me?”

Then I did feel failed.

And that was my true breakthrough.

I had never failed before, but now? I welcome it.

I hate it!

I don’t feel better, God has nothing for me anymore.

No grand surprise that’ll let me say “fuck it,” and go frolick naked and afraid on the beach.

But? I’m naturally happy sometimes.

Sun rays, no schedule.

And I’ll get the job one day and yearn for more laziness.

Then lose it, praying to be working again.

And I’m tired, waiting for that one change.

But? I just get some more z’s in.

I catch more dreams to hold on to.

I don’t have any faith.

I don’t think I’ll make it at all.

I don’t think I’m cut out for this world and I don’t wanna live in it.

Hell, sometimes the dreams I see when I close my eyes are just as morbid as when I awaken.


Some days they’re sweet.

It’s not real

It’s not me,


Some days they’re sweet.

I chase endlessly for the same things a 40 year old does.

So I can acknowledge that we all want these big things.

And I may never realize it.

But the true hope is in giving up hope, doing absolutely nothing, and letting life surprise me.

Even with the bad things.

Even when it feels like I’m dying.

I’ll be alive the next time and think “Thank God I didn’t,”

Then chase death again, survive, live some more, hate it still.

I may never consistently want to be here.

I may have no purpose

And if I find myself wanting to die?

I’ll find that it comes naturally.

I won’t chase ends.

I won’t pretend to feel happiness when I’m sad.

Nope, I let them come.

And I let them all pass.


Medium doesn’t let you edit stories on the app and I don’t have a Macbook, so I had to email myself the story and the pictures.

Sounds archaic!

But, I did it anyway.

I think it’s important to share the moments where we feel like giving up, and in a lot of ways, we already have.

You start detaching, hoping for the “one day,” that changes everything.

But then you start to appreciate the failures. Not because it leads to that pivotal era of success, but because the tiny success of survival is worth far more than any real breakthrough ever could.

Not the stressful classes that lead to graduating for some. No, the actual strength it takes to get up, knowing absolutely nothing is going to change.

All that to say? Thanks for reading, and if you ever wanna give up, let yourself feel that way. Don’t let people sell you platitudes of hope when they’ve already made it.

No, nothing is okay about feeling stuck in something. Feel that emotion, and don’t let circumstance be the thing that gives you motion. Let it pass, and let it be.

Let yourself be free.



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Alyssa G.

Alyssa G.


I write a lot about a lot. Specifically music, politics, and mental health