I’ve unlocked a new level of sappiness — I bawled last night listening to Billy Joel’s Vienna.
“You’ve got your passion, you’ve got your pride
But don’t you know that only fools are satisfied?
Dream on, but don’t imagine they’ll all come true
When will you realize, Vienna waits for you?”
I’d understand if you laughed at me for that. I’m probably at the lowest point I have experienced in awhile, driven by uncontrollable anxiety about everything in my life. I don’t know how much of myself I’m supposed to share with others, because I’m terribly afraid of getting boring and tiring. At one point do I become a broken record? When will they leave me?
Quarantine has been an interesting time for everyone. For some, it has been an awakening moment to realize their passion for social justice. For some, it is an opportunity to build a personal business empire. For some, it’s just the right time to workout and come out of this quarantine strong. I’m sure it’s also been depressing for a lot of us, but it’s hard to get a real sense of how many of us actually feel that way (unless I’m scrolling through Zoom Memes for Self Quaranteens). And I know that comparing myself to others has ZERO benefits but I’m just saying it’s so fucking hard not to.
I’ve recently realized that I will never amount to the greatness that I thought I could achieve. Before you just brush it off by saying “don’t be so pessimistic!”, I want to explain myself. When I say greatness, I mean being influential. Money is not necessarily part of the equation; I want to be influential life AOC, like MLK Jr., like John Lewis. Heck, I don’t need to be even that influential — I would be more than honored to take Dr. Mary Bassett’s place (I’m not saying she’s worth less than AOC or MLK Jr., I’m just saying Dr. Bassett probably has less power to drive change in comparison to a state senator or a U.S. Representative). I don’t know, I just thought I’d be great, and I just don’t feel like I’m on the track. I feel like if I wanted to be like them, I should’ve already gotten somewhere at age 25.
I feel like I’ll end up with a regular shmegular job, have a regular shmegular family, living in an average house that I pay monthly mortgage on. And there’s nothing wrong with that if that’s what you want, but I just don’t want it. I imagined my life to be more exciting, more eccentric.
And I honestly don’t know what to say or how to fix the way I feel. I’ve always been like this. It’s just worsened by quarantine. Time’s just passing by as I type this. Time that I could spend on working out or eating healthy or starting a new hobby, but I’m not doing any of that. I can guarantee what I am doing every day though! Everyday I’m sitting in front of my computer and crying from time to time. Google (and Reddit) has been the devil on my shoulder, making me search all different types of What-Ifs, “Am I a [enter a word to describe someone who feels insecure or incompetent]?”, and “Do I have [enter a condition]?”.
Is it tiring for you to hear me repeat the same thing over and over? Trust me, it’s just as exhausting to feel this way over and over. By now I can recite A to Z of how to combat anxiety and engage in self-care, but I still can’t motivate myself enough to practice CBT.
What can I do? Maybe it’ll work if I have Shia LaBeouf visit me every morning and yell at me to Just Do It™? Will it work if I only follow #selflove on Instagram? I just wish the world would stop.
Another day almost over, another day to come tomorrow.
Unapologetic Mess 