Moderation isn’t my forte. Even when I cook I always add extra of something. Now as I sit in a whirlwind of thoughts, I am wondering where the line went, the one I’d drawn between thinking and overthinking. It’s like drawing lines on the seashore, washed over by the waves of each thought, dragging me in and dropping me back every day and every night. In a way, there is a calm inside me as this happens. I’m the one who waits to be pulled in once more, resisting and yielding every time.
The next couple of months will be tough, it already feels that way. Do you ever feel the exhaustion of tomorrow today? I am worrying over every detail, doing complicated maths in my head trying to bargain with time. Deals with time are never win-win, you’re the one who will always end up giving more than getting.
There is a lack of awareness settling in. My perception is becoming foggier. I don’t mind anything anymore, my mind is miles away from where I am right now, on the other side of the world and my body lives each day out unaware of the toll it takes on me. It’s the tenth month already, I’ve never felt more weird about something. I feel like January is just around the corner.
As I stay ahead of myself, I’m stretching myself thin trying to compensate for my anxiety. The only way to fight anxiety is to push through it. I just close my eyes tight and push forward, there is no other way. I feel like I’ll just plough through the next year and come out of the other side, done with the tough part. I am not watching too many movies or serials at the moment, I’ve begun hitting the books. I’m serious and the person I was one year ago, focussed, busy, not interested in much apart from my immediate surroundings.
I knew this would happen, I’d soon go back to watching trailers instead of movies and reading news instead of following it. I knew I’d stop signing up for events, stop sparing time for things that are meant to give me relief. I know I can get the best of both worlds. I know it doesn’t all have to be about this one aim. It’s just that my mind can’t find that space where things are serious but happy.
This year was a defining year, but I realise I have to make this year my lifestyle. This can’t be a year in isolation disconnected from the rest of my life. I didn’t take a gap year just to make a memory of it. I need to adopt the attitude I had this year for the rest of my life. I don’t want to go back to living like I did before. This year meant the world to me. I found strengths I thought I didn’t have. Life doesn’t bog me down anymore but once this year ends I don’t want those old worries to take over again.
There is nothing more miserable than seeing endless darkness even when there is light. I will leave the darkness for the night. I will let go of my shadow’s hand and walk without its support and let it follow me into the light. My sense of symmetry is off, I have a lopsided judgement and I know my head needs some help keeping uninvited thoughts out. I know I can’t change my past which stings even today. But I can make new memories to replace old ones.
When I began this year, I wondered, is a gap year too much? Do I really need such a long hiatus? Now, I wonder if I’ve gotten too attached to it? Either way, I’m here now and I can only go forward. I do two push-ups more just in case, I run half-a-round more just in case. I was reprimanded many times for being extra, by so many people. I’ll be honest I don’t know how much is too much. We live in a world where people face more difficulty than they should, and there are people who get more than they deserve. Where does that leave us?
I have followed recipes in the past, I’ve used the measuring cup, when I did I found that the end result was a disaster. Perhaps others would have had more luck. We’re all born with certain capabilities and skillsets, but it comes down to how much we focus on which skill, using one more and the other less. I always thought there was an equation, I always thought my life was a linear graph, that I’d do it the way I saw them doing it.
When I began cooking and overdid something, the people who ate my food couldn’t figure that out. Only I tasted the excess. I was so afraid of others not liking it but every single time my gut told me to add an extra spoon of butter or a dash of salt. I can’t draw those lines, and one day I hope I’ll know where they are, but I’ve decided I am not looking for the same lines others have drawn.
I’ll draw my lines to shape the waves, give the waves a little more room and allow my rationality the boundaries, the lines it needs to make sense of the world. Who said lines can only be straight? I like my food just a little bit spicier and my desserts a little sweeter. I live my life in excess, overdoing everything by a bit. But, I’d rather live more than less any day.