Right now, I’m in a grey area- a blank space in my life. It’s been like some sort of interlude. Personally, I never understood the point of interludes in movies, TV shows, or even music. I’m not a woman who enjoys suspense, I like to just get straight to the point so I can see how things end. (And whether the ending is in my favor/to my liking.) That’s an entirely different post that I’ll be writing later today though.
On Monday of this week, I got smacked across the face like an unprepared MMA fighter. My opponent: Anxiety. I was suddenly stormed by a myriad of thoughts about things I probably did wrong or ways that I’m not enough in my social, academic, work, or romantic life. I’ve spent the past 4 years now only taking paths that I felt sure that I had control over the outcomes on and I’ve been punched harder and harder, repeatedly since then. Every time something didn’t work out the way I thought they would, I’d face a depression like none other. It felt like my entire world was ending. Why? Because I’d be reminded that not only do I not have control, but I missed out on the opportunity to pursue a passion or fully enjoy a moment because I was hyper-focused on the end.
Truth-be-told, I realized on Monday, during my 2nd or 3rd emotional breakdown for the month of June, that I don’t know how to just live in the moment. I’ve never had the chance to. When I was a child, my house was like a mine-field. Make one wrong step and BOOM. In my late teens, I rebelled against this by only making sporadic decisions and landing on mines constantly. This made me revert to my childhood tactics of tip-toeing, forgetting that mines can be hidden and undetectable anywhere. Now, I’m in this space where my life is at a standstill. I have everything I should need or want to enjoy every moment of it, but I can’t because I feel out of control and fearful of what the “end result” is going to be. Why be happy now if I’m not gonna be happy later? <— That sounds fucking ridiculous, don’t you think?
I didn’t even admit this out loud until a day or two ago when I was on FaceTime with my doctor (who’s been telling me for years that I’m an anxious, paranoid, workaholic who needs to slow down before I end up wasting my youth). It was then that I realized I need to take some time to heal. Right here, right now. So much has transpired over the past 6 months and I haven’t taken a single break to just stop, evaluate, heal, breathe, or intentionally grow.
So from today, that’s what I’m going to do. And especially since the pages of my journal are almost all filled, I’m going to try and write about it here. I want to take a moment to be transparent and vulnerable so that I can enjoy the light of day again.