You find yourself up late, utterly engrossed in a Netflix documentary about Robbie Williams even though, truthfully, you are not a fan of his or, indeed, documentaries. But alternatives are scarce and climbing the stairs feels akin to scaling Mount Kilimanjaro. Your job, that you once found appealing, now seems foreign and inescapably unappealing, but you must be up early in the morning for it.
Subjectively, your life may not appear to be problematic. According to most standards, you are a paragon of productive adulthood–successful in work, blessed with family and friends, housed comfortably, blessed with decent health. However, you are consumed with an inexplicable emptiness that neither generous servings of Minervois nor Maltesers can mend. It’s not burnout that you are experiencing, it’s profound indifference or “languishing”.
Rolling your eyes? Have we in this “quiet quitting” and “shift shock” generation cooked up yet another term to describe our disillusionment with work?
Interestingly, languishing is not a newly coined term nor a fad birthed from TikTok. It has ancient roots, once dubbed “acedia” (an Anglicisation of the Greek word for “an absence of care”) and perceived as the infamous eighth deadly sin that almost led Dante to hell’s precipice. Today, it’s acknowledged as a genuine psychological condition, an antonym of thriving.
This term “languishing” was conceived by Corey Keyes, a sociologist and emeritus professor at America’s Emory University, and gained monstrous recognition following its mention in a viral New York Times’ piece during Covid-19. In a forthcoming book titled Languishing: How to Feel Alive Again in a World That Wears Us Down, Keyes delineates languishing as seperate from depression, but acknowledges it can serve as a precursor. Moreover, he differentiates it from burnout, although burnout related to work can result in languishing.
Poring over the symptoms, it appears to be a quintessentially contemporary affliction: a restless void, an emotional flat-lining. Reaching out to friends feels like a monumental task. Even the most inconsequential decisions paralyse you. As Keyes puts it, “You’re standing in the shower, trying to remember whether you have washed your hair yet”.
The state of simply existing, as poetically named the “life’s rush hour” by Maureen Gaffney, might be what he portrays. It’s a stage typically experienced in one’s 30s and 40s, when you’re likely overburdened by a fast-paced work life, multiple children and being wedged between two generations. Seriously, who has a moment to thrive? However, Keyes convincingly argues that we fail to devote ample focus to exploring the emotional wasteland that lies between perfect mental stability and mental disorders.
Every generation is susceptible to what may informally be dubbed as “blues”, an affliction he states could affect about half to over half of the population. However, it is paramount to note that three particular demographic groups are exceptionally at risk.
Always apathetic, grouchy, and perpetually engrossed in mindless screen swiping – it might seem like the state of being in adolescence, you’re right. But the adolescent behaviour appears to be more exaggerated than ever. The most exhaustive study on the mental wellness of the Irish youth showed an increase in anxiety and depressive symptoms in 12- to 19-year-olds from 2012 to 2019, while resilience, self-esteem and positivity took a dive.
In a recent study conducted on 15,000 students transitioning grades in three counties, their general well-being and mental health were found to have taken a downturn between 2018 and 2022. Alarmingly, one in every three teen was observed to have self-inflicted injuries.
The future doesn’t look too promising for those within the age bracket of 25 to 34 either, as they bear the brunt of a housing crunch, an inexorable work life, societal pressure to outshine their parents’ achievements, not to mention the competition from everyone on social media.
New mothers are particularly susceptible to stagnation, a fact which comes as no surprise to exhausted moms throughout history. The vulnerability extends to those in their late 70s, as the pressing demands of work and family life start to withdraw, leaving them facing the prospect of loss of some of their autonomy.
The experiences of virtually all employed individuals are reflected in the bleak data put forth by Keyes: regardless of income or hours worked, reports of on-the-job stress are continuing to rise. This could potentially be attributed to the prevalent work culture we find ourselves in, demanding constant productivity, self-improvement, and a never-ending stream of communication. Succeeding in such high-stress environments is only achievable for those already performing at their peak. Adding to this is the emotional aftershock of the global pandemic.
Interestingly, Keyes found that only individuals aged between 60 and 65 are showing signs of fleeting prosperity. How can we combat this pervasive sense of languishing, then? Keyes suggests five solutions, including spiritual growth, much expected from a yoga practitioner. Other suggestions include maintaining authentic, trusting relationships, seeking purpose and belonging, challenging oneself to learn new skills, and the perhaps daunting task of reclaiming playfulness and fun.
Unfortunately, the path out of this state of languishing requires us to confront the very discomfort associated with change. This means actively resisting the alluring comfort of the sofa, the soothing trance of unfocused scrolling, the seduction of alcohol, mindless binge-watching, and the temptations of late-night celebrity entertainment. The era of “Netflix and chill” has reportedly led us into a uniquely modern predicament—we continually make choices that leave us feeling increasingly isolated when what we should be yearning for is a life filled with meaning and enriching relationships.