Monday, June 25, 2012

Missing Time

Lately I've kept trying to shake off this feeling of not doing much in life. After the last month of end of the semester craziness and utter stress, the days just seem to roll by emptily. Emptily and ominously.

I've lost so much time already. I fell behind so badly in those years of unwilling sleep. It's as if now that I'm awake and quite certainly alive I can't possibly allow myself the luxury of rest. I haven't really earned that luxury, have I?

Today, I read some more pages for my thesis research. I translated a couple of more paragraphs and wrote a couple of more sentences for my short story. I took hours to fall asleep yesterday. It was probably 5 am when I did lay down and I spent all those hours just shooting the shit on my computer. What a complete waste of time. I've spent the day reading up on fat acceptance blogs vainly attempting to make myself feel better, to stop this voice in my head saying: don't have that extra taco, put down those M&Ms, WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH THAT PLATE OF PASTA!?

I just keep feeling like everything is all wrong, wrong, wrong. Like I'm still steadily heading for disaster, no matter what I do...

Which is of course pure fabrication on part of my overtly neurotic brain. I sleep-walked through the day and I still managed to do some work, if not everything I had hope to do. I was so tired after exams and final essays, so exhausted, and yet I am not only actively working on my thesis which I hadn't done in ages but I am writing again.

I've grown so accustomed to telling myself how everything I do must necessarily be wrong somehow that I forget to listen to this little feeling in my gut telling me that I'm doing exactly what I need to be doing.

I suppose that part of it is being back at my mom's. How can such a beautiful place feel so suffocatingly prison-like? I didn't walk today, or do much exercise. I didn't water my plants and probably no one else did for me. I didn't wash my dishes or emptied my cats' litter box. It somehow seems impossible to just go out and move around on my own. Once I'm here it seems so impossible to take independent action. Like being wheeled around in the metaphorical equivalent of a perambulator.

I'm not even sure how to end this now. There's just this discontent, this nagging feeling and yet this continual assurance, from the deepest parts of me, that it's all right. I'm all right. There's nothing the matter with you. Just keep your course. How strange that this song should come up right now. This song which makes me think of my desire to write about bravery, about independence, about daring, about facing loneliness and loss.  How strange that it should seem so easy to do these things that it's scary. All this time convincing myself of how I'm just no good for this, I'm just not as smart as I think, and then...

And then...

No comments: