jeudi, février 04, 2021

So now what?

 I haven't written in so long that it now feels nostalgic; it brings me back to the time I would spend evenings in computer shops at a time when having internet at home was not the norm. It brings me back to those days when I felt so optimistic about myself and my abilities; I can do it, I can start over, I can take the leap, I will find a way, I will make it, I can tell myself and actually believe.  Now it always feels like I don't have time, that time is not really mine but is something shared among everyone else. As an introvert, I used to lock up in my room and just listen to music and somehow my soul is refreshed.  Now doing such is accompanied by some form of guilt, that I should be doing something, that I should be doing something more, that I have failed myself and my talents, that I have not held up to my education, that I am severely under-achieving, and I feel trapped by my own mistakes and inability to organize myself and my life. The mere idea of dying makes me feel riddled with guilt in that I have not accomplished anything substantial and death would be such a shame, such a shame indeed. I try to cope, but my coping slithers along a comfortable path, which is the opposite of what brings about improvement, the ability to take risks and follow-through, the capacity to to be exposed to discomfort and everything that causes anxiety, regardless keep moving forward, accepting the past mistakes and somehow finding ways to convince others that these are not mistakes, that these are not excuses, that these are not born out of strained mental health, that maybe I would snap out of it and start moving forward.  Oh I've said that already.  I've all of these already, so now what?