It’s too easy. Thinking is inherently just easier than acting.
I’ll begin this with a few harsh realities. One of which, maybe the most fundamental one: someone dealing with depression should not be with someone who deals with a form of depression. Recently, I’d been reading quite a bit on this, not just for my Psychology course but furthermore because I was with someone who was temporarily dealing with depression, it was situational, and my mental health was not conducive of a healthy relationship. It was barely 2 or 3 months, and I guess to be honest you could call it a genuine experience, rather than something that had to end in tragedy.
I thought I was ready to commit, cause I’ve become a strong believer in just picking a person, and committing, I’ll say what most think: there’s more out there, but that doesn’t mean it’s better. Evidently, I was not. Every problem, every thought I thought I had dissolved, passed on from arose, like no other. Every insecurity, every thought, every time I felt like maybe I am not good enough, maybe I don’t deserve to be happy cause of all the sadness I’ve caused, every single one of these thoughts arose. When they did, I took a step back and understood maybe what I need is to be okay before doing anything.
It’s hard because I don’t really know what being okay looks like. Part of me thinks being okay means having something I no longer can, my adolescence, I hope this isn’t a mid-life crisis, I mean it could very well be. At this point I don’t give myself more than a decade. My body should fail me by then. What worries me is not knowing, not being able to predict the future, not being able to know that there is a semblance of certainty in the future. The last time I felt safe was too long ago, that certainty is long lost, maybe that’s why I keep wanting to go back and rethink every decision I’ve made. Because it confuses me, can the future be as simple as the past once was.
Literally as I listen to this song, and as it says “you said I want to see the world, and I said…go.” I think of why I made the decisions I did, and this genuinely wasn’t a reason. I keep forgetting that I didn’t run, I made a decision that I thought was the best. I mean the only reason I feel like it was a good decision at this point was because when I was leaving, I thought I wasn’t the right person for what I had back then, the simple truth is I’m not sad that the people of my past are happy, I’m glad because it tells me that my decision was a good one, I don’t have to be in something to make it good. It can be good, without my egocentrism,
I’ve spoken at great lengths of so much, but one thing I never give importance to is my own sanity. What I mean is, I forget that I was looking after myself. There’s a point that hits, when you lie and fight and hide shit. It gets to a point where it’s physically draining. I learnt recently (a year ish ago) that lying under any circumstance is wrong, and that rather than applying my own thought process to a partner, I should respect their reasons. Regardless of what it’s based on, when you choose to be with someone, you choose who they are, not who you want them to be. It went both ways when I was thinking about making the decisions I did.
To be clear I am speaking of a relationship, but this applies to friendships. I mean you really don’t have to lie to your friends, but I guess I became someone who was a lie, who I wasn’t. That in itself is a disservice. I accept my mistakes entirely, but I think it’s time I also accept that I wasn’t bored or I didn’t want more in life. I just didn’t want a constant cycle of toxicity, what hurts me most right now is that I just wish I had, had even half of the knowledge I do now, then. It would’ve simplified so much. I often discount how I got to know what I know now, how I became who I am. Someone capable of understanding and accepting his own wrongs. I don’t think I’d ever have been able to before.
What I seek to accept is that experience, development and understanding does not come without pain. It’s hard to, it really is. It’d be easy to delude myself into thinking that the solution to all my problems stands on two feet. If I’m to be honest, my current mental health is deteriorating at a rate where I could take down the most stable person, let alone even communicate with someone experiencing a modicum of what I feel every waking moment. Some days are good, but it’s come to the point where most days are bad, almost all. It’s like that’s the thing I think about as well, how I used to have good days, but most were filled with arguments, yet I delude myself into believing it’d be different, I’m different yes, but so is everything else.
I don’t like how I force myself to accept truths I don’t want to, I once heard “she is not yours, it is just your turn” and that is one of the most profound things I’ve heard. Often times loyalty, faith and love get’s confused by this guise of possession. When in fact the truth is, every moment is yours to experience but not to have, not to own, not to consider yours. Nothing is mine, not even my own thoughts, I just experience what my surroundings stimulate in my head. Even though it is a harsh reality, it’s one I need to accept. Being me doesn’t entail any ownership of anything. I am just a spectator to whatever persona is currently living.
At this point, I realise that these posts, these thoughts cause more discomfort, more confusion and more angst than they do help. It went from introspection to ranting insanely quick. So I’ll stop, stop talking about certain things publicly because asking you to stop reading this is not something I can do, I mean I still struggle to stop, every time I type “w” in my chrome. So all I can do is understand the consequences of my action, understand that it is my responsibility to look after myself as much as it is to not cause you any misery. I’ll be more selective of my words, I don’t want to delete musings, but I suppose it’ll take a shift, unless I find myself needing to reply, then I guess I’ll write what I deem fit, but still, with more caution.
This entire post, this string of them, this weird fucking conversation I’ve been having that probably confusing you as much as it does me, needs to stop. A public forum is no place to do something that should be done privately, probably dealt with faster that way too. I can’t find myself writing all the time for anyone but myself, regardless of it feeling like an escape I need. My friend gives this blog a year, before I change the name and restart again. But to be honest, I’m going to force myself to keep it till I die, even if I want to shut it down. I like having a place to store all the thoughts I had, understand what I felt when I felt it.
I’ve been having this recurring thought of what everything would look like, had I had it my way. It’s just dumb thinking it’ll be a happy ending. Fool me once shame on you, fool me twice shame on me, fool me thrice and … oh wait there is no thrice. I accept that, I understand the significance of being able to accept things, regardless of how I put myself into this almighty position where I feel as if I’m the victim, the world’s unfair. It may be, but it is to us all, and by that means. Just deal with it, and keep on trying until either you die, or you achieve a semblance of peace.
I don’t know how it’s 4 am, I’ve been awake since 8 am, and I only slept about 30 minutes, what am I doing?
I think I’ll try and head to sleep, there’s no way I can talk about all the things I need to accept in one post. I’m sure there’ll be another one. I need to talk about how I’m not giving this place a try, cause I’m trapped in a past I need to accept is over.
A Sane Undertaking 