It’s been an entire day-long struggle trying to write this, but I feel as if I need to.
There’s this song that causes me a lot of grief when I listen to it, it’s called 3:00 AM by Finding Hope, the last time I heard it I caused my ex a lot of grief, it literally sent me spiralling into a pit of angst and sadness. Even as I write this, I have an insane migraine just piercing through me. You know when people often read this, the ones that know about my life prior to 2018 think most of my posts refer to my ex at that time, but fail to understand that there’s an entire life I’ve lived and not spoken a word about for the sake of my own privacy, and it’s that life that’s causing me so much pain.
Now I personally have no clue why I’m always tired, and just not okay. But I suppose at this point I need to find some hope, a certain strand that will help keep me going on. The entire point of this blog was to figure shit out, something that would help me understand why I fail to make anything work, or at least help me figure out a way to achieve a modicum of happiness.
It’s been two days since I’ve started this, I’m scrapping it and restarting.
X—————-X
It’s a Sunday morning, and I just woke up around 2 pm, to a dream about trying to get to Heathrow to catch a flight back to Karachi, completely confused about why I was on a video call with my parents the whole time, but yeah whatever.
I usually tend to put music on to get the creative process going but I really don’t want to listen to anything I have in the past few months, so I’ve thrown it back to The Fray, an early 2000’s throwback doesn’t ever seem like a bad idea.
This post initially began to try and understand where hope lies, because there must be something to strive for. Quarantine’s taken away all the habits, and routines I had that made me want to be alone. At this point, I just want to go home, sit on my friends’ roof; sober and pure.
Could that be the hope I’m striving for, the hope I need? Just simplicity, not some mega narcissistic saviour complex, now hope rooted in rescue, but hope rooted deeply in simplicity. Is what I need to be okay just comfort? Something I’ve unfortunately not felt in a few years. I have found comfort in certain things, in my own skin, knowing who I am. I have accepted what I am, which is why I know it needs to change, but… but I haven’t felt safe in a long time. I’ve tried to find safety in relationships, books, routines, and other shit. But I guess what I really lack is the ability to be comfortable by my lonesome.
What truly confuses me, is I do get tired of people very soon and prefer being alone more than not, but when I am alone, it seems to expose the exhaustion, in public it’s easy to keep going until you have to stop, without realising the damage. But being alone is like pouring salt on the wounds. Ironic considering, I truly used to enjoy my alone time, the times I could just sit and binge an anime, read out my worries and most times just run away, literally, and metaphorically.
I want to trace out hope so that I have a chance in achieving it. At this point I need a semblance of certainty, just someone//something to bring about a feeling of relevance. But I am trying to find it. I will, hopefully by the end of this blog.
I made this blog anonymous (kind of) just took the link off socials, as per an ingenious suggestion by a friend, because I felt the more notoriety this the blog got, the less open I could be.
When I realise that I look back to understand what I’m trying to achieve I come up blank, at no point in my life (the years I remember) was I okay, or at least fine. Years of getting bullied resulted in years of overcompensation and self-hatred, then resulting to narcissism and an obsessive ego. Somewhere along that journey, I realised I’m not the healthiest individual, so maybe I should change that, right? Like understand yourself before you want to be understood… otherwise you really don’t know shit do you.
I need to find a sense of comfort within my own day, and I’ve constantly been trying to add shit on, yk like add on positive habits, add in people that make me feel better, substances, processes, anything that brings about gratification. But maybe what I need to do is find hope for a better possibility, in the basic conditions of the day. Maybe what I need to do is revert to something simple, more primal. Eat, exercise, work, and sleep. Cut out all the noise, all media, all ambiguity. Knowing what’s next every hour until I fall asleep, but to be honest I don’t think I’ll even try this, I’m not one for schedules especially ones that fundamentally depend on my most noncooperative function: sleep.
What I do need to do though, what makes sense to me at this point. Is doing a couple good things a day. People shit on productivity until they find the need to be productive, because to be frank certain people need the constant progression because the present stagnation is insanely volatile. Processing and trying to make sense of it all is insanely important, but I feel like if you spend too much time focusing on processing rather than also progressing, like I do. You might develop what I refer to myself as, a dependency to sadness. There’s genuinely a comfort in something you’re used to, not a good kind but nevertheless it feels less uncomfortable, since it’s become an unwanted home.
So this is the plan to be okay, I’m going to find happiness in the little things, in the basic rituals, now I by no means think I can find hope in a higher power, not just yet. Maybe one day. But until then a healthy body does give you the best chance for a healthy mind, so we’re going to get out of this depressive spiral by literally running out of it, every day.
There was a time, where I was genuinely doing a lot of crazy healthy shit, like running, reading, feeding myself, being proactive in my goals, and I was staying accountable on my IG, but it fell off the wheels when I read something someone said, that I had become what I resented the most; artificially happy.
But fuck that, I don’t remember feeling the sense of accomplishment I felt then, ever since. So, I don’t think it was innately artificial, just something I was not accustomed too. Now I by no means won’t do that again, but I feel like there’s no time like right now to make some positive changes.
A Sane Undertaking 