My absence from this site is unnecessarily explainable, but my return to this website was born from the need to see my thoughts expressed somewhere other than in my head. Right now, I’m in a silent room in my underwear on the verge of tears. I feel as conflicted as the image that the previous sentence projects.
I just got in from selling myself to corporate America in hopes that they would buy me. Quite an existential way to put it, but the reality of it is I’m doing nothing that I want to do, and everything that I need to do.
But it still does not feel good.
I thought autopilot was supposed to give room to some peace of mind, or is that only when you don’t acknowledge that you’re on it? I wish I could relax, and know that I’ve created something that nourishes me. I wish doubt didn’t plague me the way that did. I wish that I hadn’t been dealt these cards.
I’m accepting doubt and, dare I say it, regret, as an important part of my brain’s natural processing. “It’s okay, Fonz. It’s okay to not be okay. Feel something. At least you’re aware, you’re awake.” The reasoning that follows is what protects me from straying too far off. I don’t know why I’m always riding the fence with depression. It’s never too far from me. My life is set up with things and people that remind me of that all the time.
I’m 26 years old. I want to be successful. I have to be successful. How I obtain success as I define it is by obtaining complete independence, complete autonomy. I want the option of opting out of needing others or anything. I want to be completely satisfied, grateful, with where I am, who I am, and what I have. I want to take that gratitude and pour it back into my life. To be clear, my issue isn’t needing things, it’s that I’ve gone my whole life needing things: company, security, friends, love, stability, respect, money, agency. I’ve also gone my whole life wanting to be needed, attaching my value and self-worth solely to what I can (and most likely will) do for others.
Today, one of my best friends called me a “beacon of light”. The problem here is I don’t feel it. I do believe there is so much to be happy about, to be grateful for, but I’m almost embarrassed to sit with the reality that I am not as accomplished in my own “happiness” as others think I am.
And it makes me feel phony.
So, right now, I’m giving myself the some time to not be okay. I even cried my way through this entire post, so I think it’s going well. I’m starting to feel better already.