I reminisce a lot. I go over where I’ve been, what I’ve done, and how I’ve felt. I try to make sense of my past to try and understand why I’m here. Why I’m like this. Am I better than before? Or worse? Have I made progress?
Sometimes, I do it just to make sure I’m real. Silly notion I suppose. Things can get so convoluted, some days I feel like smoke. I can’t seem to grasp who I am. The past and future don’t even register as blips on the map.
Even that same day will feel unknown. Imagine floating in space, but with out the stars and light. Directionless, aimless, you can’t tell if you’re even moving or not.
Recently reminiscing, I found a poem or free verse I had written my first year at college, about having a panic attack at Chick-fil-A.
friends, family, co-workers
Every table has that
I sit alone, company of a book
And a voiceless phone
Rabble of voices over shadow me
Hordes of patrons break my thoughts
I make no sound
Barely daring to breath
Hands that make no mess
Fearful of a mistake
Then eyes fill the room
I’m definitely not saying, “Hey read this, I think its good.” I think its rather sub par.
I think its important, as far as case studies go, to have an understanding of the history of the individual.
I’ve just now, started noticing the sky again.
It was a beautiful day. It could’ve been raining or gloomy but I remember it being beautiful. I was warm, down to my core. A peaceful happiness was spreading through me. We had just finished laughing. After nearly a half hour of nonstop talking we settled into a peaceful silence, taking in each others presence.
As one does in shared silences, I stared off into some unknown distance. Perhaps some shade of green caught my eye. I looked back to you and found a solemn countenance watching me.
In moments like these, between intimates, I believe a mood can shift. Even a conversation can take place in silence.
We looked at each other, the way one truly sees another. Past the surface, beyond the facades, right up to the front door of the soul.
There you whispered, “I’ve missed you.”
I know. Me too.
Then you asked, “Where have you been?” Even though you already knew.
My neighborhood has been flooded and evacuated. I don’t know if water has gotten into the house or not yet. But my little brother is worried that looters might have gotten into the house.
Work has been cancelled for the rest of the week. Meaning my pay check will be lacking a few hours. Thankfully my work is giving us an extra day next week.
My phone is out of commission and when I took it to see if I could get it repaired I was told to might as well get a new phone. Which I won’t be able to do for a few weeks.
My mom is getting married this Saturday. I’m suppose to be excited for her. My dad will be devastated once he finds out. Yes, my dad doesn’t know she is getting married, because she hasn’t told him. I’m not going to tell him and neither will my brothers. That’s not our job. She asked for the divorce, she can tell him she’s getting married. My mom may say it’s none of his business but I really don’t want to have a conversation with him 6 months from now or even 2 years from now with him that goes, “Why didn’t anyone tell me she got married?” Besides that we’re their kids not their messengers. But now I’m ranting.
It honestly feels like its all going to shit at the moment. But who knows it could be because I’m a bit sick at the moment. You know what they say, “Weak body, weak mind.”
All right motivation time. Chin up soldier. Look at the bright blue sky.
Lets do some stretching. Hands all the way up like you’re reaching for the stars. Then bring them slowly down to the ground.
And straighten that back, who knows how long you’ve been looking at this screen.
I think too much.
I don’t believe I should be left alone with my thoughts for extended periods of time. They wander. They don’t get tired. There’s is an infinite amount of ideas, processes, subjects, minuscule items that there is to think about. My brain, for some odd reason, refuses stop.
I feel I do all this thinking but do nothing with it. I could figure out a plan for my future. Why don’t I pick a major already? All this thinking and you would think I’d have an idea of what I’d like to do by now. Alas, in the great words of Phoebe Buffay, “I don’t even have a pla.”
Honestly contemplating my future stresses me out. I understand it is a stress worthy thing, but sometimes. Most of the time. I cross that line over into the land of too much stress. I don’t know what happens. I will be looking over different ideas or paths I could take. I could be talking to someone about it, and they could be throwing me ideas. Then I’ll get nervous, it gets hard for me to breathe, and then I start feeling bad. Because with all these talks and researching I do, shouldn’t I know what a good plan for me is? Or a plan that I would want to do? I feel guilty then I feel a little mad at myself. Its a whirlwind of those emotions, with a sadness that creeps in.
I understand people react to stress in different ways. I don’t think my way is the best way. I stress over my stressing about things. Its a 7 layer stress dip. But its not delicious.
Recently a question arose among my co-workers. It was a question about whether you worry about your future. The two oldest, when I say oldest they’re the oldest in our team of 5, told us they didn’t. They didn’t have to think about the question. They didn’t worry about it, they told us that they knew it was going to be okay and they would be fine.
I was in awe. How do I get that mentality?
Thinking about it, I started to worry. [ If I could insert a picture of a completely done with myself face, I would.] What if I never stop worrying? What if I go though life having to deal with this level of worry and stress? What if I never each that place of I know I’m going to fine?
What if global warming accelerates and in the next 35 years land masses are getting covered in water?
What if the moon collapses? Where is it going to go? Out in space? Crash onto earth?
What if my college credits don’t transfer?
What if a tropical storm hits the cruise that I’m going on in the fall?
What if my tire blows out on the way to work? That one is reasonable because that spare as been on there for over a month.
What if all the bees die?
What if the planet gets so polluted it turns into a post-apocalyptic wasteland like in Mad Max?
How are we ever suppose to reach world peace? We can’t even achieve peace in our own country.
What if a gas station gets caught on fire, while I’m there pumping my gas? I don’t know where the emergency shut off switch is.
What if I fuck every relationship, situation, and plan that I go through in life? How am I going to deal with that regret and disappointment?
What is wrong with me?
Life is not a jar of Mandarin oranges.
I finally got my jar open. Wooo! Go me!
Then I got greedy. I thought to myself, you know what would make these taste even better? Let’s crisp them, stick ’em in the freezer. It is going to be grand. So I pop the jar in there, about 10/15 minutes later I’m feeling kind of tired. So I decide to go to bed.
And I left the fricking oranges in the freezer.
So much disappointment upon myself.
I wake up and my Mandarin oranges are sounding like a great breakfast idea. I stroll my happy self to the kitchen. The world slows down as the suddenly revelation of my ghastly mistake. My eyes widen and I rush to the fridge with a no leaving my lips. I bust open the door and there they are. My oranges, in all their frozen glory.
I had to wait half the day for that jar to thaw out. That’s when I thought the Mandarin orange metaphor was not such a great idea.
Perhaps the idea for a metaphor of life is a bit more sophisticated than a 1 am epiphany. I mean life is complex. Its scary, complex, and confusing.
A lot of times we try to ignore it.
We try to control it.
We try to stop it from changing us, affecting us.
We are constantly told to embrace life. Who actually does that whole-heartedly? It’s rather frightful. You have to deal with the issues that come it, big and small. There’s the comings and goings, goodbyes and hellos. All those people, it’s exhausting. Then you have to deal with the unexplainable events, the surprise events, the events you know are coming but really don’t want them to. Responsibilities, time-management, decisions, emotions, motivation, ethics, getting a proper amount of sleep, that’s all swirling around. Pick and choose, how to best get through the chaos of this world.
I wish it was easier.
But the sky was beautiful today.
And life, with all its pressing matters, didn’t seem so bad.
Funny how you might find yourself at 1am pacing the floor, reading, staring at that spot on the ceiling, mindlessly scrolling that LED screen, basically anything but sleeping.
Is it insomnia?
Am I just bored?
I find myself thinking about new beginnings, New Year and all. Not analyzing or anything, just thinking what might happen. Will I finish school? Am I going to stop procrastinating? New job, new place, new friends, new life?
Then I find myself listening to music. To a song, and everyone has one or two, that you can sing, scream, and cry to. I don’t though, because neighbors. I’m nice like that.
After I have that moment, or really many moments, I starting questioning myself. Why do I want to do this trifecta.? What wrong with me? Why don’t you just go to sleep? Perhaps I spend too much time mulling over life’s small tragedies. The doubts and concerns, the cracks in the floor. Because who knows, those cracks might open up and swallow you whole.
I’ll be honest I do let myself wallow at times. I’ll disappear for a few days. I won’t sleep at night. I don’t talk to friends. I’ll cry in the shower, my car, when an onscreen lover comes close to dying. I’ll mull over my regrets and then regret them even more.
I might be low-key depressed. Maybe high-key. Who knows?
All I know for sure, is I got this jar of Mandarin oranges on my table that I can’t open. It’s slightly frustrating. I’ve tried using my might multiple times in the last five hours. I’ve tried hitting it with a spoon. It won’t budge. And I’m really craving these oranges, I can almost taste their succulence on my tongue.
Then an epiphany hit me, in between my bouts with the jar. It’s honestly going to sound really odd when put into words.
Life is like my jar of Mandarin oranges. You have things you want to accomplish, but some days it seems like you’re getting no where. It feels like you’re breaking your wrist trying to open it up. You might think it’s nearly impossible to get there. But you try. You take a break then try again. You try hitting it with a spoon. You’re bummed out. Those dreams or goals are visible in your mind, but it’s so far some times. Then the doubts start sneaking in. Am I ever going to open this jar? Or the one that sneaks in for me most of the time, what if I open this and its bad compared to what I was expecting? What if all this work was a mistake?
Sometimes I think I need a breather from life.
I fear I think too much. I get irritable. I procrastinate. I’m not okay.
What helps me, when I feel this way. I look at the stars, and gaze at clouds. I hold my friends’ hands. I pet my dogs ears. I cry and sing to that song.
I tell myself, “It’s okay I’m not okay, because the world is filled with imperfect people.”
And sometimes I go to bed.