Once again, I’m seeking some sort
of calm in this head of mine. I’m back
at my favorite local coffee shop that somehow always manages to inspire me,
which I know is strange. But the music
is good, the ambiance chilled, the barista’s friendly and smiling (in fact
looking at them now and they are laughing and relaxed) and the other patrons
also seem to be at peace although who knows, really. But I’m okay believing that they are. I’m turning off the empath side to my nature
and focusing on me. That’s all I can do
at this point in my life which even to me sounds selfish. How can one simply turn off something they
are born with? I’ve never been able to
before, and will probably not be able to totally successfully but I am sure
going to give this a try.
I’ve been struggling hard,
folks. Everything has in fact turned
into some version of struggling (life, job, relationships, etc…) and I’m hating
this more than anything. In the past
I’ve faced life with a bit of an attitude.
A shrug, a grimace, a wave of the hand, stubbornness, and a range of
other emotions that usually allowed me to tackle whatever I was facing with
some sense of aplomb, even the toughest of scenarios, and I’ve had plenty.
Now though? Maybe it’s age. Maybe it’s a lifetime of disappointments that
leads me to a space where I feel overwhelmed, a word I loathe to use. To be quite frank here, I can’t seem to
breathe without wondering why I’m allowed to do such a thing with ease but then
subsequently a pressure appears to weigh down on me while memories that haunt
come back to laugh and jeer reminding me of things I want to forget. I laugh and instantly wonder what gives me
the right to do something that others probably earn while I remain untethered,
not adding but taking away? Am I being
hard on myself? Yea. I know I am and I’ll be out of this funk soon
but not today. I’m having this moment to
just…be.
This morning I woke up with a
stone, no, more like a boulder, firmly placed on my chest and it completely
suffocated me. I didn’t know how to be
rid of it but I needed to badly.
Praying? No. Reading?
No. Taking myself out to breakfast
so I wasn’t alone? That didn’t work. And not even writing now is helping. That rock remains in place. I can hear my own heartbeat and its
discombobulating. I don’t like this
feeling and I can’t make anyone understand this particular sensation because I
am not sure if others can/will or want to understand. Why should they? After all, we all are struggling, right?
But here’s the question that most
haunts me: when is it okay to not think of the world’s struggles and focus on
one’s own existence? I don’t think I
know how to do this. For all my spouting
off about being open to your own emotions and treating yourself kindly, I’ve
never taken that advice. I’ve never
actually listened to myself. It’s a hard
realization to have, actually. It’s not
a gratifying one at all.
It’s funny too, because as friend
after friend seeks me out for advice or solace, I hear myself giving the right
guidance but wonder why I never actually put all that into practice
myself. Is this the ultimate in
hypocrisy? Even today, as a friend spoke to me, guided
me, I found myself making the same excuses as to why I couldn’t first take care
of me before everyone else. I find
these justifications ineffective. They
make no sense at all and instead it almost sounds as if I’m craving this pain
of sadness, loneliness, abject disconnect from everything and everyone around
me.
Or that’s maybe what I want? For a woman who has been far too ‘connected’
maybe disconnecting is the right step?
Maybe stepping fully back, putting up a ‘do not disturb’ sign across my
life and proceeding to figure out who I really am is the correct path? Or maybe doing what I’ve always done,
something that always satisfied me, would help such as unselfishly giving of
myself? But that’s what may have led me
to this point, possibly. I wish I knew
what the right answers were. At the end,
it doesn’t matter because I believe fate will take me at its will to where I’m
supposed to be regardless of the fallout but it’s that very thing, the
possibility of disappointing others that keeps me in place, motionless.
“Struggle”…It’s a funny
word. It can mean so many things. It can bring to mind so many different ideas
of what it can be. I am not special with
mine, that I know. I have a story that’s
buried deep beneath the skin, the veins, the blood and the optics, one that’s
unique only to me. I have to embrace
this fact, I think. I have to stop
apologizing for being human and breaking down.
I have to stop feeling weak because I give into the tears that are constantly
being blinked back only to be replaced with a smile that I do not at all
feel. I am a machine in so many ways
because I laugh when I’m expected to as well.
But in reality? I am a solitary;
bizarrely serious person yet most think I am the opposite. They find me to be open and friendly and
warm. I am. But I am not.
Above it all, I am not the person who would burden others with my
issues, I handle them quietly while I take on the de-burdening of my fellow
human. I want no one to see the real me
because I believe her to be scary.
However, isn’t that what all of us do to some extent, hide our true
selves?
Anyhow, I’ll publish this blog
unsure of what any of this was about.
Without a true topic. Maybe the
very topic itself is that I do not need to have one? I’m simply living in this moment, a space
devoid of light, even as the sun streams through the window and bathes my
fingers and warms my skin. My friend
suggested I live in this moment and I’m taking his advice although he suggested
I not write it, not because all this is too personal to share but rather
because by writing I’m overthinking it all.
But this blog has been almost devoid of thinking, weirdly enough. It’s just sort of verbal diarrhea in written
form. I want people to know that behind the biggest
smile, there is pain, that behind every laugh there are tears right at the
edges of the eyes and behind every person, there is a story. I want my readers to know that if you’re
alone in this dark world, try to find the inner calm and peace, something I’m
trying so hard to find myself.
That’s all for this blog. I appreciate the readers who stop by to read
my nonsense.
And let me leave you with this
silly hashtag: #thestruggleisreal.
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