When I was little, my best friend would carpool to school together every day. Only we spent the greater portion of the car ride arguing over what we’d be doing in the car rather than actually doing anything. She wanted to listen to music, likely Katy Perry, or whatever else was playing on the radio. I, meanwhile, stubbornly insisted that I required complete silence in order to pursue my favorite activity – daydreaming.
To this day, I might still consider zoning out as one of the best pastimes. Only I don’t need dead silence anymore. I can daydream just about anytime, anywhere, in anyone’s company, and amidst any sort of noise. It’s an extraordinary talent really. At least I think so. My vision blurs out of focus, the thoughts pooled inside my head begin to unravel, and I’ve never felt more at peace.
The older I get, the less time I have to indulge in this luxury. As a junior in high school, it’s not something I can usually afford to do anymore. If I start to space out in class, I remind myself that I’ll miss the lecture; if I start to space out outside of class, I remind myself I could be studying, catching up on social media or current events, or doing something “productive.”
I wish daydreaming was considered productive because I feel like it is a form of self-care. One of the few times that I actually feel good about zoning out, is at the end of my physical therapy sessions when I do electric stimulation and am given an ice pack. It’s almost the opposite of meditation. In meditation, you try to block all internal dialogue and focus on your outside senses, and daydreaming is the vice-versa. I lay there, my back pain fading away, and my thoughts racing in.
Recently, all I can say for this week is stress. Although I got into the college I want, there is still a lot of stuff bothers me. In this case, I started to ghosting my friends and just wanted to be alone. Every day, I can hear people laughing and smiling. I started to wonder, are they faking it? or are they really happy? I began to hate a feelings of me staying in my room getting sad, at the same time, I hear people outside screaming and busy having fun.
I’ve been alone for a while, staying away from my friends. I have found my favorite time of each day is when I go to the gym. Of course, I felt more lonely at first, then I began to get used to it. Gym is the only place I feel like home right now. It’s the only place I’m really by myself, be myself, and just put all of my stress on the weights. When I’m in my dorms, my roomate always being loud and his friends come to our room all the time. When I’m at the gym, there is only me, and I can put on my airpods listen to music , and really focus on myself. At the same time, the break time between every set, gives me more thoughts of things that bothers me; which I started to feel a lot better beacuse I can deep into those problems. I don’t know why, but there is some magic in those dumbells.
In F block Journalism, we are tasked with writing 1 blog per week, which sounds like it would be no problemo. But it’s not. A lot of work goes into these 1 paragraph idea dumps, but not much of that effort goes into the writing. It’s all in the ideas. I would have to say that 85% of writing a blog is coming up with the idea. That shit is not easy. I mean how can you be expected to come up with an idea out of nothing, that is entertaining or interesting to you, and the reader. It’s a small scope of topics that are interesting and easy to write about without creating a sermon. The blogs are a surprising hurdle to overcome in this class. Boy, is my life hard.
The mind is a dangerous place and as a former hopeless nihilist I feel I have earned the right to say that. The worst part about thoughts is that they don’t stop. It can be torturous to spend a single protracted moment in your mind when every thought is weaponized in some way to be destructive. The psychological degradation brought on by a depressed mind is exhausting. Every thought drags you deeper into the pit until your mental breaks and you give up.
I was lucky enough to break this seemingly endless loop by repressing emotion and taking away meaning and depth from every emotional outlet. My past statement of being a former nihilist was a lie, however I am no longer a hopeless nihilist. I’m just a person who copes with stress and anxiety by believing nothing should make me stressed or anxious because it lacks meaning and worth. I understand this might not sound like a valid process of thoughts as people will question my morals around every corner, however, I assure you, I have decent morals. As well as many other decent qualities. Greatest of all though, the biceps. The biceps s h r e d, and that among other things boost my dopamine levels giving me dreams and ambitions to quickly acquire. Finding something, anything interesting would lead me to want to try, learn, and quit. However some dreams in my head take a long time to learn. These thoughts of my future give me ambition to live an active and fulfilling life. I found reason along the ashes of self destruction.
There are moments when I find myself caught in the cross fire between my heart and my head. I often cant decided weather or not I should listen to the voices in my head telling me what to do, or my heart guiding me in in the direction of possible heart break. I want to follow the direction of my heart, but my head always stops me and poses the question of “what if”
So now when my mind is blank, the thought of the matter at hand will cross my previously calm mind. And suddenly, there’s a sense of panic that overtakes me and I feel uneasy. As if I am stuck with a decision that for one reason or another, my mind can not physically comprehend because my heart will still get in the way.
One way or another, my heart and mind play tricks on each other, but both only have the best of intensions for my own happiness. So there lies the conflict, when is it that I listen to my head, and when do I listen to my heart?
Is it worth the minor lapses of fear and judgment for potential happiness? Or is it that I should disregard both and simply try and play it safe.
Even that question is too grand to answer for myself. So I still remain to question decisions, or simply protect myself from a risk just to avoid the confusion of my heart. I consistently bombard myself with the age old question of “what if?”
But maybe someday, I will listen to the deep feelings being stirred in my heart and follow that, for it could lead me to my greatest potential happiness. Maybe I will rebut the question of “what if?” with “why not?”.
Why is it so hard to let myself fully fall into a relationship.
I may be passionate about the person and they hold a deep place of significance in my heart, yet I still struggle to let them in and take the walls surrounding my heart down.
I remain guarded, in order to protect the innocence and intensity of love from reaching me. Is it that I am not capable of feeling and accepting it? Or is it I’d rather stay safe and remain living a simple life of independence.
There are many times of questioned that. Where I think, could he be the one I decide to try and dive into love once again with?
But instead, I sabotage it, I turn the passionate feelings off, I shut down…
So why is it that my mind must do this to my heart which longs so deeply for human connection?
Why must there be something that reminds me of the joy I feel when I am a free spirit?
Maybe it is simply that I have not met the person that can match my sense of adventure and unwavering free spirit that can be overwhelming to some.
The problem is, I hurt people with this self destructive behavior of mine even though that is far from my goal.
Often at night, I find myself just laying in bed and not being able to shut off my thoughts. There are so many things just racing through my mind. While I lay there, listening to the rain hit the roof of my room, I think about how funny life sometimes is. It can be amazing, you are happy and everything is perfect, and then the next day everything just comes crashing down on you. And when one thing goes wrong suddenly everything starts going wrong and it feels like you are drowning. But then there are those people that just pull you out of that hole. It might take a while to get out, but these people make it so much easier.
Honestly, sometimes you just need someone to listen to you. They don’t even need to say anything. It can feel amazing to just get everything off your chest without being judged for it. And once you make it through rough times you have so much to be proud of. You can reflect back to the times where you were at you lowest and look at yourself and say “I made it through this” and it proves how strong we are as a person.
So I lay in bed, and think about all the things of the past weeks, and I just think about how lucky I am to have people that support me in anything I do.
It was flying through the air at full force, I think because something was chasing it. It hit the window with a loud bang and fell to the ground below with a much softer sound, feathers swirling all the way down. It left behind a perfect imprint of wings fully splayed as they smacked into the inch-thick glass above my kitchen sink.
So Dad picked up its body and threw it onto the roof for the hawk on the telephone wire to see. If a dove had to die, he said, it might as well provide for something else.
The hawk seemed young to me when it came some minutes later and carried the other bird away. I looked up and tried to see where spring had gone.
It’s hard for me to tell days from other days when the sky is like this, the color of a dead dove and completely still. I can’t remember how many weeks it’s been and today I wrote that it was May.
I looked at the calendar to see that it was the 19th and finally I realized we are in April. An entire month has gone by and to me it’s felt like one very long day.
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