Writers block has hit hard… I’m unsure if I can even call myself a writer as I have been so adverse to sitting down and writing anything down. It’s a bitch of a hand to be dealt. Not knowing where it is that you best fit. I think most people deal with this issue, and some come to a conclusion easier than others. It’s just in my bones I know I can contribute to society, I know I can offer a unique perspective. However, being shot down over, and over again. It’s hard. It’s inescapable, and it’s drowning unique ideas in a myriad of falsities and under represented populations. The system as it is, is broken. We have new voices being silenced and old perspectives are taking precedence. It just seems that with all of the technological advancement and changes in how we run as a society. We should change how society runs. We should change who is heard, who is acclaimed. I’m certainly not saying that it should be me, but I am saying that new voices need to be heard. There are so many issues with the way society is running, there are so many discrepancies in our school of thought as a whole. The new has been trying to work its’ way into the big picture. The problem is, is that, no one is willing to listen. Change is hard, and things are already difficult. Tension is high, and hysteria has made its way all around the globe. We are struggling to pick up pieces and put them back together. The problem is, that we have so many new pieces, so many new facets of life, in the modern world, how are we supposed to make different puzzles fit together? Why don’t we just throw away the fucking puzzle and make a new one? We need to be organized as a society, sure, but why don’t we allow new voices to take stage for a while? We need patience, and the availability to be heard, even if the ideas are new. Rather, BECAUSE the ideas are new.
It seems to be all I talk about right? Contemplating normalcy, my own day to day existence. Wishing, and hoping for more to come, a break from all the normal I seem to be drowning in. Times like this are the ones that are the worst for my self worth. I start to feel as though I’ve come back to square one, again, for the umpteenth time, I am here. Wracking my brain for options and yet my mind is blank. Here I sit, taking down all of my woes in writing, continuing to be unheard and unseen for the weirdo that I am. All of this because I can’t seem to find my escape, and let me tell you, going nowhere is the difficult part. Going nowhere is more terrifying than anything else, because in going nowhere you know you will be trapped in the normalcy forever. All the years of being misunderstood, under appreciated, and frankly just ignored. All those years will come to mean nothing except more of the same. More of feeling voiceless, feeling lonely, feeling tired of it all. So here, I come back to talk about square one, talk about all of the daily normal that drowns out the individual voice, the cries are loud, maybe someday people will actually listen to them. In listening to them, maybe they will hear their own echos of the same feelings. I know breaking the mold is intimidating, but I know that we are better off breaking the mold together.
As much as I rant and rave about everyone being valuable in their uniqueness, I spend an awful lot of time questioning my own value. Questioning whether or not I will matter. Like I said in my last post, I question whether or not there is room for my success. I somehow forget to consider my own views on the importance of being unique, when considering myself. I wonder if self doubt is really just forgetting that we are unique individuals as well. Forgetting that we have a unique perspective to offer. I think that the view we have of ourselves is always skewed towards the negative. I allow myself to get so lost in the negative, and I doubt so much that my individualism gets lost in my own head. A place where it goes through endless critiquing and never leaves. It’s a lot for someone like me, to accept that I am worthy of being seen. That anyone will care what I have to say… Regardless I’m starting to realize that I have to say it. I have to be unapologetically me. I have to stop doubting myself and accept who I am, I have to be enough for me. After that, it doesn’t matter who else thinks I’m good enough.
This may just seem like the anxiety ridden ravings of a young adult, but isn’t it what we are all thinking? I know we are constantly told that the opportunities for success are endless in this giant world. However, does it ever seem clear? We can see success, more specifically, we can watch others succeed. When it comes to ourselves though, all we can see is where we are now, we can imagine an ideal, we can even come up with a plan. It doesn’t mean though that success is imminent, it doesn’t mean we have life all figured out, and it certainly doesn’t mean we won’t fail.
The fear of failure, now that’s certainly something I am incredibly uncomfortable contemplating. When falling down that rabbit hole of a thought process, it’s important to remember that everyone starts somewhere, I’ve read enough self-help books to know what you should be thinking. It’s just that, that isn’t the natural process of thought for someone as anxious as I am when it comes to facing my own shortcomings and failures. The clock ticks loudly in my mind, it’s a bit of a mind fuck to feel like you’re constantly running at top speed, trying to get to some sort of finish line, only to find out that the finish line hasn’t even been crested yet. Your own version of reality is still as unclear as it was when you first started running. I see what I want though, I see it, I’m terrified of the possibility of complete failure. I’m scared that there isn’t any room for me to succeed in this crowded world. Other people are louder than me, they’re more willing to take risks, and they are better than me in so many ways. All of this still to say, that maybe it is time for me to take a risk. I may not succeed, and that idea is still just as terrifying as ever. If I decide to let my fear control me any longer though, I may drown in my own self pity. I wish someone had a clear answer, I wish someone could tell me exactly what to do to make sure everything turns out alright. Obviously, that is unrealistic, so I hope the opportunity to make the leap comes soon. With or without a life jacket, I am ready to find where life takes me, now that I finally want to live it.
Onto the newest idea, dream, journey. After constant pondering into what it is that makes me dissatisfied with the current state of life, I have decided it’s time to consider the possibility that the only thing holding me back is myself. The societal notion that there is only one way to live is ludicrous and simply not true. My average Joe job, my schedule that is constantly controlled by others, my lack of freedom. All of it has been created and reinforced by myself and societal norms. So, where do I go from here? What do I do?
I’m going to think, plan, and create the version of life that I so desperately strive for. It isn’t impossible to travel, to live, and to create an existence that you love all on your own. Throwing what I’ve been told is realistic out the window, I’m officially ready to crush any expectations others may have, I’m ready to start fresh with only one thing in mind. My life is my own creation and nothing is impossible. I will continue to work hard and get through each day, UNTIL getting through isn’t what the day is about. My life will be full of adventure, and it will someday be exactly what I dream of now.
This is a declaration to myself, I know I can accomplish much when I put my mind to it, and I know you all can too.
Work, home, repeat. Leaving our minds behind and letting ourselves fall into a cycle of torment. Dealing with asshole bosses, rude customers, unruly coworkers, lewd comments, etc. Here we are trapped, with no end in site. You have to pay the bills don’t you? You have to keep moving in order to keep food on the table, and yet you are miserable the whole. Entire. Time. You think and think, what’s the solution, how do you get out of here. Planning and planning relentlessly, memorizing your most likely escape route. Yet, it still feels like you aren’t doing enough, nothing impactful is happening and you just feel screwed. Like the whole world was built to hurt, to degrade, to destroy. To take away hope, and love, and control. It’s a depressing reality that you just can’t except, so you try again, memorize a new escape, try so hard to figure out a way to get out quickly because everyday you are stuck in this cycle is another day that you feel closer to loosing who you are.
I’m frustrated, I’m lost, I’m miserable. I need something to let up, I can’t keep going from job to job that makes me feel worthless. I have a working mind, I have a million thoughts a minute and they’re all telling me that I need to find a way out. But, the pressure is too much, there is no easy escape. Hell, there isn’t even a guaranteed escape. The rest of my life could look exactly like this and if that isn’t terrifying I don’t know what is.
My mind is off dreaming, imagining a world where I’m happy. Not just happy in certain moments, but happy most of the time. I get to do the things that I enjoy, I don’t have to waste countless hours making money just to survive. I can live, truly live without all of the bullshit. What an imagination I have, right? The reality is much more cruel, is much less idealistic and optimistic. The real world feels as though it’s designed to destroy any of the dreams I have. I keep moving, I keep trying, but things don’t seem to change at all. None of my ideas and dreams are any closer to fruition and I only have myself to blame. I blame myself for not knowing, not understanding, not finding a way. I blame myself for not being enough, not doing enough. Then again, where do I even start. To gain success you need to understand the system you are working with, and I’m not sure I will ever understand this. This life that we are ‘meant’ to lead, this boring, uninspiring, life that gets shoved down our throats. I’m exhausted, the boredom is utterly exhausting and I just wish things were different. Everyone knows though that wishes almost never come true, everyone knows that life is what it is, and there is only so much one person can do to change it. All I’m saying is that somehow, I’m still here, unmoving, and uninspired, but trying to pick myself up, away from this life that I’m ‘meant’ to lead. How long will I be able to try without getting anywhere? When does it become too painful to dream? I feel as though things would be much easier sometimes if I could resign to who I’m meant to be.