Too much is never enough

It’s without a shadow of a doubt that I went into the new year feeling low. This became blindly apparent when a friend of mine shouted with glee ‘this year is my year! I’m so excited!‘. Was this going to be ‘my year‘? She read my facial expression and offered a ‘…aren’t you?‘.

Honestly? No, not really

Standing outside of the pub on the curb of dusk, I wanted the ground to swallow me up. Saying it outloud to other people confirmed that I’m not just in a funk or having an off week. I didn’t know what I wanted anymore.

Previously this kind of sentiment really excited me. I would get a kick out of it. A thrill. But being in the same place for almost 4 years, still not able to drive, still living with my parents and still not saving nearly enough. Suddenly weeks of mindlessly watching (and rewatching) Friends, the occasional buzz of a notification : ‘It’s so so’s birthday that you haven’t spoken to for 6 years, wish them well!’ and lax scrolling through the Christmas sales had hit me : I’m not going anywhere if I’m standing still.

* Cue a spiralling weekend of alcohol & tears *

Maybe I hadn’t been brutally honest with myself for a very long time. That’s the risk if you choose to be constantly busy, distracting yourself and don’t take conscious time to reflect.

After lengthy conversations with Devs, my dad and the boy some of the fog was clearing. The heaviness wasn’t something that carrying alone now. I wasn’t hiding. I spent a day clearing out storage in my room, stripping out the cupboards of old dried up craft supplies, getting rid of cracked eye pallets from 2011 and packing away dusty faux fur coats under the bed (only to be brought out again for the next fancy dress costume). There was something about the physical organization that was doing something good for my brain. It felt a little like progress.

This episode had undoubtedly tripped, grazed knees and winded me. It made me forget that I am capable and valid. To set goals and fall short has always felt like there isn’t enough air in my lungs. There’s a light headed dizziness when I approach a deadline. The darker voices scream ‘I’m inadequate’, but I know better. I know that now.

The next steps for me is to stop talking about what I’m going to do about it, about this mood, this feeling, this heaviness, and actually do something about it. Granted, finally talking to people about this has been so good. It had felt like a reservoir inside me was slowly getting filled up until finally the dam couldn’t hold it anymore. Letting go of keeping it together is somehow freeing, and yet, there is still a gripping sense of  ‘so what now?’.

Let’s see where this takes me.

Soundtrack :






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