A Safety Net is Not a Bed

It’s been a while… hi? :)

My last blog post went up on the 12th of June and somewhere between then and now, I went outside and actually lived my life… and honestly? I had a really good summer.

I hit milestones I genuinely didn’t think were going to happen for me this year. Some planned, some completely unexpected. I went out more, enjoyed my work, spent more time in the sun. I felt acknowledged in ways I wasn’t expecting. My emotional space opened up… I felt more receptive to life.

There was a point where I remember thinking: we really live life in 4K. Let me enjoy this before autumn comes and the days get shorter. So I did.

And then, somewhere toward the end of summer, enjoyment subtly turned into avoidance. Not dramatically, I mean, there wasn’t some catastrophic breakdown. I just… stopped showing up.

Work started feeling like something I couldn’t be bothered to do, cooking became a chore, administration could wait until tomorrow… Then tomorrow became another tomorrow. Doomscrolling filled the gaps, gaming gave me somewhere pixelated to disappear into for hours, shopping gave me a quick hit, takeaways meant I didn’t have to participate in feeding myself properly and even “self-care” became something I was half-arsing while telling myself I was taking care of myself. I wasn’t.

I was hiding.

And there’s an uncomfortable difference between resting because you need recovery and withdrawing because you don’t want responsibility anymore.

I had built myself a safety net, and instead of appreciating what it was there for, I started lying in it.

That’s the thing nobody really tells you about creating stability after spending so long trying to reach it: A safety net is not a bed.

The same things that created the stability still require maintenance once you have it and I think part of me resented that. There was this expectation sitting underneath everything: So I have to keep doing this? I have to keep showing up? I have to keep maintaining the ecosystem? Apparently, yes. Rude. But yes.

Because eventually, the consequences started knocking; my income dropped, my routines disappeared and of course, my discipline went with them.

I gained back weight I had lost, my skin broke out, my environment started reflecting my mental state. I then later realised I didn’t have the emotional capacity I wanted to have for my clients… and then I forgot to pay a credit card. Money stopped adding up properly.

And suddenly the little voice saying “I’ll deal with it tomorrow” wasn’t harmless anymore.

Tomorrow had started charging interest and THAT… That was probably the wake-up call.

Not because everything had fallen apart—but because I could finally see where it was heading if I continued. The uncomfortable truth about getting the life you prayed for is the cost of keeping it. You reach the milestone. You sit in it. You celebrate it.

And then what?

What happens when you’re no longer desperately chasing the next thing? What happens when there isn’t an emergency forcing you forward? Sometimes, if you’re anything like me, your brain either goes looking for another problem… or decides we can apparently retire at 33. Neither is particularly sustainable.

I’m also naturally resistant to routine because some part of me still translates routine into control, restriction and obligation. So when I finally had room to breathe, my rebellious side went, Actually, fuck all of this…. and for a little while, I let her. But rebellion stops being freedom when you’re rebelling against the very things keeping your life functional. That’s when wishful thinking starts turning into delusion because no one is coming to save me from the consequences of abandoning the life I built. I am my own safety net, which means I also have to maintain it.

So tonight, I got up.

I started taking control of my environment again. I sat back down at my desk. I resisted disappearing into a game just because it was easier. Nothing revolutionary happened, there certainly wasn’t a lightning bolt of motivation. I just decided that at some point, I have to restart this whole showing up thing.

And tomorrow is Monday.

So this isn’t an apology for disappearing.

It’s an acknowledgement.

I’m human.

Sometimes I lose sight of my “why.” Sometimes I become complacent. Sometimes I confuse avoidance with rest and procrastination with giving myself grace and sometimes I have to look at what I’m creating and tell myself: Enough.

Because I worked too hard to build this life just to become a passive spectator in it.

Rest is necessary. Enjoyment is necessary. Doing absolutely nothing sometimes is necessary. But eventually?

You have to come home to yourself… and start participating again.

— Venus xx