Part 1: The spectre of boredom has been haunting me

What I learnt from unpacking what boredom means

As far back as

Photo of a tabby cat sitting in a loaf, a string hangs over its head, and a stuffed fish lies next to it by Juan Gomez on Unsplash

my memories of summer vacations’ go, I remember one repeated refrain. Me complaining to my mother “Kuch karna hai lekin mann nahin lag raha!” (I want to do something but nothing feels engaging!) My mother would try her best to suggest activities - painting, writing essays, coloring, read a book. But often by the time I was feeling this way I had already gone through all these activities either mentally or literally by doing them, and realized that nothing was capable of giving me joy.

As I grew older and the number of compulsory activities in my life increased, I thought that this feeling of being bored would surely disappear. For a few years between 9th grade and maybe my third year of undergraduate education, I think it did. My memories of these years are generally few and blurry. A combination of trauma and the pressure of the Indian academic system (one cause of said trauma) had suppressed many of these days (thankfully!).¹ But somewhere towards the end of my five year integrated masters program, I began to notice that periods of boredom started to increase. At the time, living in a hostel with the world of friends next door, and a million deadlines, I was able to quickly find distractions.

The following years as I began grad school in a new country I was diagnosed with severe clinical depression so I had pretty much lost interest in everything. This was not boredom. This much I am able to clearly identify now. When I was bored I wanted to do something but could not do it. Whereas in depression I did not want to do anything nor could I think of anything that would distract me from my numbness. Being depressed felt like being underwater and viewing all my interests from a depth, knowing I was sinking further away from them.

Boredom was full of restlessness and irritability. All the activities in the world felt like they were sitting in front of me but making fun of me because they had suddenly changed just enough to not let me engage with them anymore. Like a modern day toy phone, a plastic rectangle with a flimsy plastic printout of a smartphone screen stuck on it. Nothing tactile to engage with. Just a rectangle of plastic taunting me.

As I started therapy, I began to notice that there was a lot of shame associated with boredom in my mind. Being bored was an indicator of my failure to be entertained by the wide variety of options in front of me. I had the ability to read, paint, draw, photograph, play games, sit on my phone, do chores, write, publish, research, apply for another grant, and on and on and on. It was purely on me that I would not do any of them. It indicated that I was either spoiled for choice and therefore not valuing the options in front of me, or that I was lazy. That I could not do them because maybe some kind of starting mechanism was missing never struck me.

In 2021, I was diagnosed with ADHD. The diagnosis was life changing. This is when I first began to really understand how much shame I was holding in my body and mind every time I felt even remotely bored. I remember during a session with my therapist at the time lamenting my continued state of boredom no matter what new hobby I learned. I was angrily declaring “What’s the point, I will just get bored of anything that I try to do, no job or hobby or activity will really ever keep my attention. What if nothing ever holds my attention?” Her response left me stumped, “Boredom seems to feel dangerous to you.” I was shocked. At first I tried to defend myself² , no it was just boredom, I was not scared of it. What! How could boredom be dangerous? I just needed to stop being bored. Just do things and not wait for motivation or interest. That’s all.

Luckily I had a great therapist, she just listened patiently and asked me “But why should you just get over it? Boredom hurts you, so let’s talk about it.” I think I cried.

Boredom does feel dangerous. I am scared of it. It hurts. My mind hurts from it. This is part of my neurodivergence, that to me being unable to feel interest/engagement in the things I love, that I remember I love, feels painful. It feels like scraping my nails helplessly against a smooth surface, trying to get purchase while trying to pull myself out of a pit. Boredom is physically unbearable. In a way that the only other people I have seen suffering are my mother and grandmother. From the inability to have their quick thinking and hyper speed minds be occupied with activities that feel soothing.

Because not being bored feels like peace, like floating on water, like being fully present in my body and not in my racing and chaotic mind.

A few days ago, I read a post³ on substack that said that introverts don’t get bored. At first I immediately rejected this idea, but then I read the responses. Comment after comment agreeing that they never get bored because they like their company, they enjoy solitude. I was stung, was I so desperate to get away from my own company? But I realized that while I am extroverted, I personally don’t dislike my own company. I have felt bored in company and by myself. I have also craved time by myself more often as I grow older. Finally, often when I am bored now, I am not craving company and the thought of being social also feels boring much like anything else. I am grateful to the writer and commenters of this post, because it set me on a path of doing some deeper healing around my relationship with boredom and what it means to me.

This post really stuck with me. I kept coming back to what is it that makes me so bored of everything? No state of being can reliably be depended on to keep from boredom. Whether I am with myself, with my favorite people, doing work, or my favorite creative thing, I can feel boredom creep up on me. So then what does this sensation/experience I label boredom actually include? And how do people around me understand boredom when I say it?

I set off on a journey to understand what boredom really is because my understanding from the post above was that boredom for me was not associated with specific activities. It was something else that was happening in my brain that manifested itself in my body and mind through multiple different situations.

I am going to continue this piece in another essay where I discuss what I learned from asking all my friends about their relationship with boredom and how it is shifting my own relationship with boredom.

1. I have never related to people missing their high school days or being nostalgic about their teenage. That shit sucked. I am so glad to be done and also to not remember. Of course that says a lot about the abuse and trauma that systems and social structures were inflicting on me and the lack of resources to process or get support during this time. But anyway.

2. I was not quite sure who or what I was defending myself against but it felt pertinent.

3.