Apathy
Have you ever experienced periods of time when you’re so tired you can’t string together a cohesive thought? When even sleep is elusive?
Have you ever felt so emotionally drained that your goals fade, your efforts feel increasingly irrelevant, and an insidious voice in your head tells you not to care?
I came out to the living room early this morning to find math study sheets spread across the worn cushions of the couch. The now one-and-only “shared” laptop was neatly closed, and a few more textbooks and an HP calculator were piled nearby. All lights in the house were blazing. These were signs of another long night for my teenage son. And I can only imagine, a point of “I don’t care” reached, or possibly exceeded.
Setting attainable goals
There are times in our personal and professional lives when we must push the envelope. We’re chasing dreams, or trying to hang on to them. We’re doing the “work” – of making our living, repairing a relationship, helping our families, or learning under pressure.
As for my son’s academic goals, I believe they are within grasp, but require considerable effort in a competitive program. Our technology dramas of late haven’t helped, but nor can they be used as excuses. Life will throw everything at us; we have to deal. Still, as I sit here knowing he is spending his morning in testing (again), I hope that he didn’t hit his wall of “I don’t care” during the night.
Parents as models of work ethic (for better or worse)
I can’t help but consider the expectations I’ve demanded of myself most of my life, and the kind of role model I must be. I think about the goals that have been attainable albeit ambitious, and those that were beyond reason. Perfectionism played its hand, though the origins of my work ethic are more complex than that. No amount of effort on my part appeared (to me) to be too much; I carried an inordinate, and disproportionate sense of responsibility for the success of anything that involved me.
- I felt this way about my studies; reasonable, except in group scenarios.
- I felt this way about my career; reasonable as an individual contributor, and not – as a team member or a resource constrained manager.
- I certainly felt this way in marriage; unreasonable – as it takes two to do the work.
As for parenting? I’ve poured my heart into it, yet over time I’ve been more relaxed. I expect my sons to follow core values established in this household: honesty, respect, learning, and yes – hard work. Other than that? I’ve insisted there always be “kid time,” and I’ve tried to stand back and let them own themselves.
Emotional subterfuge: “I don’t care”
Years ago, after two pregnancies one right after the other, I was carrying considerable weight that I couldn’t seem to shed. I felt sluggish and unattractive, and the more I dieted, the more I was the poster child for the yo-yo effect. Between a hefty professional workload, two young children, and a largely absent husband, there was no “me” time, and I compromised my sleep, my nutrition, and to a lesser extent, daily walking. I existed on auto-pilot, and remained that way for far too long. I was often sick, and ignoring the fact that I was sick.
As for the weight, I reached a point of “I don’t care” after trying to lose it and failing repeatedly. But my nonchalance was a cover for pain, an attempt to distance myself from my feelings of failure. And eventually, I took to a regimen that was slow and sensible, and I succeeded at losing some forty pounds. Best of all, I no longer had to pretend that I didn’t care, when I did.
Of course, “I don’t care” can signal more significant issues. For children, teenagers, or adults, signs of apathy may be warnings of substance abuse, depression, or being overwhelmed. Saying “I don’t care” masks fatigue or frustration, but also, the pain of loss, fear of failure, and a good deal more.
The cost of working too hard
We live in a culture that seems to worship at the altar of workaholism. I realize now, of course, that it is possible to work too hard, and in a way that is counter to one’s health, well-being, and sense of self – not to mention the very goals we are determined to meet. When we sacrifice sleep, nutrition, and necessary human connection to overwork, we may sabotage relationships, unwittingly. We’re more susceptible to illness. In the long run, we under perform. We hit our walls of “I don’t care,” when in fact, we care very much.
Yesterday’s discussion on whether or not we work too hard was illuminating. Not only do many of us believe we work too hard, but we do so at the wrong things. We pour precious energies into activities that don’t necessarily serve our passions or our goals. I wonder how many of us are working ourselves into a mechanical state of not caring, and need to take a fresh look to regain perspective, and potentially make changes. 
- When do you reach the point of “I don’t care?”
- Does it happen professionally or personally?
- Is it a matter of fatigue, frustration, or something else?
- Do you set challenging but attainable goals?
- Do you place impossible expectations on yourself?
As for my son, he was quiet in the car this morning. I wished him luck when we arrived at school. I watched him smile and wave at his counselor as he headed inside. Tonight, I’ll cook another hardy meal, turn over the computer to him when he needs it, and let him be. Last night I said: You’ll need some kid time this weekend.
He nodded.
© D A Wolf
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“Slow and sensible.” That sounds lovely to me, and much more likely to succeed than the frantic pace we try to maintain, with fad diets and unsustainable methods.
Slow and sensible works well for many things; “steady” and sensible for others. Why is it so easy to forget that? Ah yes, our crazy culture!
I’ve hit that apathy point more than once. I find if I slow down, and focus on being happy and grateful for what’s already in my life, I open up to the universe, and either problems dissolve, or I find new energy, new reason to pursue them. It’s all about state of mind.
I think state of mind helps – as does balancing the hectic pace that is inevitable at certain times with healthy activities (for my kid, that’s tennis and piano). But there are times when the stressors are huge, and there’s little way around them. Only toughing it out. Sometimes that means you reach “I don’t care” stage. I admire your ability to put yourself in another state of mind, DM. It isn’t part of my world.
I think part of my personal struggle with resilience is that I care too much about everything. I think I would be better off, actually, if I could learn to say “I don’t care,” or, even better, to actually care less about things that don’t merit. I hope I can figure out how to do this soon so that I can model appropriate situational apathy for my kids.
I hope your son gets some kid time this weekend.
It is hard to “not care” about some things. So true, Kristen.
I generally try to do too much. I set goals which are way hard but I plod away at them til I achieve.
I did, though, a few years back, decide I had had enough. The constant volunteering for this and that was getting to me and eating up an me time. I picked one or two big things and put all my community service into these and gave myself back my life.
Sounds very smart, Nicki.
I wasn’t able to read your post yesterday (which I will have to do a little later!), but I really wanted to comment on this one.
My “job” is to be a full-time mommy. While this job can be frustrating, it does allow for certain flexibility. I can take a nap or take a walk and not have to clock in and out. My husband, on the other hand, does not have this luxury. He is constantly going going going. School + work does not give him very much “free” time. And, when he is home, he would rather spend extra time with us.
This last semester I saw him reach this point. The point of “I don’t care.” He has worked his butt off in all of his classes. Unfortunately, the professors feel it is more important to test on irrelevant facts rather than pertinent information. It was heartbreaking to see him work hard and come home with tears in his eyes and anger in his heart. I wouldn’t say his expectations are impossible which makes the disappointment even more frustrating.
This term, though, I have seen a complete change come over him. The classes are less demanding and provide more room for him to come home and relax. He is happy, I am happy, and we are working better as a team. I think that his happiness is also coming from a more balanced lifestyle. That and the sun. We sure do love spring and summer!
Having seen Ben go through academic hell, I have a slight taste of what I will feel when I watch my kids go through similar difficulties. It will be hard but I hope I can do what you are doing, Wolf, and encourage balance.
I agree with Kristen, BLW. I could use some more “I don’t care”–or, if it’s me speaking–“who gives a shit?” in my life.
Have a nice weekend with your son! xoxo
I have made a point of carving out moments for me because I have to. Experience has taught me that when I don’t life gets to be very ugly.
We all need a few moments here and there.
I think “I don’t care” sets in when the input doesn’t match the output, when the effort expended doesn’t bring the desired results. This is especially true in situations where the input is disproportionate (perfect word, BLW!) like in situations where team members must all perform at a high level or in a marriage where one person is putting in more effort.
And we all need kid time, don’t we? Even when we’re all grown up?
I’m going through that right now with my academics, but have not gotten to the point of not caring yet although I do procrastinate at times.
I’m sooooo far behind in my blog reading. This one smacked me upside the head and said “THIS IS YOU!” Yes, I’m to that point. A pending (pending because I know its coming) disappointment in life is draining me emotionally to the point that I’m starting to listen to those insidious voices that say I’m not good enough. Part of the problem is I burn the candle at both ends and the flame very close to burning out in the middle. I say I don’t care (about the upcoming disappointment), but it’s a facade to protect my psyche so I’m not completely dysfunctional.
I may not comment a lot, but I always read your posts. And they always make me sit back and analyze myself. Thanks (I think)!
A full and healthy life needs a good balance of work, exercise, intellectual stimulation, and play…but it’s hard to find the time to fit it all in, so usually some aspect suffers as we prioritize.
It does seem like an impossible balance most days, doesn’t it… but why is it that for most women, their own health is what gets prioritized at the bottom of the list? Almost by habit?