Saturday, 26 January 2013

Old Fridge

Sometimes it feels as if my brain is going to explode.

I don't know whether there's too much going on or not enough. I make progress in one direction and then it's halted or reversed. Or I get cold feet or second-guess myself. Or everyone else except myself. I'm not even often too sure how I feel, or how I think I feel, and certainly not how I'm supposed to feel.

Everything's so transient. I feel like I'm standing on the edge of a cliff waiting for erosion to take its course. I glance around at everything and everyone I used to know and everything seems to have changed too much for one person to handle - even an ILB. The people I used to see I barely see any more. The places I used to go don't seem to exist. Everything I used to do, I no longer seem to do.

I hardly ever play my guitar.
I hardly ever use my Wii.
I hardly ever read books.
I hardly ever do any exercise.
I hardly ever get out of here and go to town...

...and when I do, it all seems to either go wrong or stop me in my tracks. I get flustered - I show my vulnerability. I am unsure. I am nervous. And my energy goes very quickly. I used to suffer from the occasional lapse in concentration, but then burst into flame when charged up. I should still be doing that. I've got a job, I've got a social life, I've got a girlfriend. I should be moving forward.

The problem is, with everything going on at the moment, my overwhelming feeling is that I don't want a change. I really, really don't. My body appears to be fighting against it. "Slow down," it says, "you're moving too fast." I try to chide it for inserting a pointless Simon and Garfunkel quote into my daily life... but can's quite get there.

"I'm a cat," says Willow.

I just want to turn back time. Back to just before Christmas. Feeling harmonious at times and okay at all the others. When I could sit on the sofa with Jilly and watch Red Dwarf if I wanted to. When I could step out of the door to my bedroom without feeling like I have five million things to do. When everything seemed OK and looking forward wasn't a terrifying prospect.

Because it is. It is terrifying.

And something has got to stop.

I just have no idea what.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Forward is always scary but at the same time it can be hopeful. It's not ideal but somewhere down the road you'll look back on it and you will see some positives there. Good luck. x