Skip to main content

Septembral Anxiety

I am at what some might call an interesting juncture in one's life.

Currently, I'm back to being without a job, but - through some stroke of misguided luck - I'm back in class, studying (and teaching) my way towards a second master's. The past few weeks have been somewhat tumultuous, to say the least; errands to take care of, things to sign, paperwork to forget about, etc, etc...but it's not just that.

It's been a veritable hell inside my head.

I do not know how to describe it, but I have a massive problem with lack of clarity. Not knowing what the coming step might be irks me to a great extent, much like an itch that you cannot scratch. I toss and turn for hours in bed, trying to think my way through a situation, wondering where it might lead, and I end up not knowing. It is not an enviable place to be in.

This all culminated in a night, a few days ago, when I couldn't take it anymore. I was literally freaking out, thinking that my future had been summarily executed, flushed down the drain. I simply did not know what I ought to do, what my next step should be, and more thinking lead nowhere. My brain refused to work, the spectre of failure loomed before me- mocking me silently, and I went to sleep.

When I woke up the next day, I had the answer, and it was astounding in its simplicity; I decided I didn't want to worry about all this anymore. It was too tiresome to keep worrying about the future, about work, about people, about the crushing loneliness, about where I'd be in a few years, if I was making the right decisions...too much, and I already had the grey hair to prove it.

So, I just cast off all those fears and worries. I now ask myself  'Is there anything you can do beyond doing your best with what you have right now? Is worrying going to solve anything?' and the answer is always 'No.'

And, for once, I've decided that this answer is an acceptable one.

Wish me luck.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

In Dreams

This was initially triggered by a six-word suggestion from a fellow Twitter user. Thanks, Amenah. This is also dedicated to Adly , who was one of the first people to encourage me to start this blog, and who's leaving the country soon. You shall be missed! ----------------- You were in my dreams again yesterday. You stood there, clutching that lace umbrella you loved so much. I watch in awe, as you twirl it playfully in your hands, and I can see you’ve painted your nails blue, that brilliant azure color that I’ve always loved so much. I smile, you’ve always had a thing for all things Victorian; you called them regal, austere, beautiful. 
10 comments
Read more

Initial

I may have once been pegged as a writer, but for the longest time now, I’ve been unable to conjure anything worthwhile to write. Perhaps my inner editor has evolved to the extent of being able to strangle my thoughts in their infancy, so that nothing’s left now. It is a thought that scares me, often to the extent of mental paralysis, but it is one worth noting nevertheless. It is for this exact reason that I am writing now, to see if I am still capable of doing so. One might argue that I never had the capability, but people also say that they used to enjoy what I had to say in writing. I will not lie and say that it is for them that I am making these attempts. They are for me. Perhaps it is selfish, perhaps it is narcissistic, and perhaps it is none of these things. I do not know, and I couldn’t care less. So, here I am; writing, ranting, observing, telling, hiding and - perhaps not in the literal sense - speaking. I sometimes feel somewhat pretentious when I write, though my words ar...
7 comments
Read more

Random Thoughts (I)

- Few things rival that feeling, when nostalgia creeps up your spine, and finally reaches your eyes. There's then this faint squeeze upon your eyeballs, and before you know it, you're all teary-eyed. - More often that not, I can trace where a relationship has gone wrong back to an exact phrase or expression. It is not a good talent to have. - Relevant to the prior point: I spent the entirety of my teenage years wishing I had a time machine to rectify mistakes in my exams, or in conversations with my parents. I often went to sleep wishing I'd wake up to repeat the prior day. I was a weird kid. - When I was reading Half Blood Prince , I could feel my face grow red when Harry kissed Ginny. It was not lust, it was a feeling of jealousy that I'd never experienced in real life. (You can get the Forever Alone jokes out of your system now. Done? Good.) - I rarely curse in Arabic, and when I do, I feel awkward afterwards. Same thing regarding dirty jokes. - I have a v...
4 comments
Read more