Please remind yourself you don’t need anyone else to do the saving for you.
You work it for you.
It’s been a rough couple of months and it’s getting much harder to live far away from home– especially when there are many things happening all at the same time!
Sometimes I question the type of choices I make. Did I really make the right choice to stay here? Am I selfish for prioritising…building my career away from everyone and my family? Was it right to shift my priorities? Is it worth it to let some things go?
While a multitude of things are piling up in its due course, I am managing to trudge on by running away from everything I should be facing. Usually, being a hermit helps. Going out with friends here help. Doing stupid things help. Revelling in the temporary helps.
But these are all temporal. When you wake up, the notion of impermanence kicks in.
And that’s the moment where in you get reminded of why it gets harder and harder to get out of bed in the morning.
But whatever it is you do, at the end of the day, you get reminded that well… anxiety’s still a bitch.
Sometimes meditations help. Sometimes it doesn’t. And I guess that’s why I always run. I mean I do figuratively.. But literally speaking, I mostly get by — by running. I love the thrill…the gush of the wind, the shade of the trees, the rays of the sun! Reminds me that I am making the right choice that I have actually something to live for.
But that’s not becoming sustainable for me lately.
I hate to be a bummer. But it gets lonely. It gets tiring being a hostage of your own being.
So then I try to surrender. I go for walks. real long walks.
I bank on instances. Any available open instances I get to forget. Depending, hoping all these would save me from the fear of myself and everything else– from the hollowed echoes of deafening silence to the clattering sounds of defeat, shame, guilt and unworthiness– all swooning themselves over you like a panopticon.
But then at the end of the day, you get reminded again that anxiety’s a bitch.
And there’s really nothing there for you to hope for but to get yourself to heal. And mending only starts, when you do the saving–by you, for you, and you alone.