I am still struggling to find what I really want out of this life—with the career I am keeping myself busy with and the call of independence and adulthood. I am absolutely in love with where I am right now and what I’ve been choosing to do lately. It all seems so routinely for me, though—going to work and going back at the condo to cook, work out at night, then go to sleep. Give it a few hours and I’ll be doing it again, for five times a week. But I do hold it dear in my heart, being the captain of my own ship.
But there are days where I feel stuck. Sometimes I tell myself that I’m only doing this to get over the past trauma from 2018 and to run away from my own emotions and other mental burdens. I haven’t been this sane in a whole year and I’m grateful for the little peace I’ve made with everything.
I have been out of therapy for almost three months now. There are days where I ask myself “did I really have to spend so much time and money for therapy when I could have done this and that to be better?” Setting my mind in the timeline of when I was at my worst, I’d like to think that I would have killed to be where I am right now. This was the mental and spiritual state I’ve always dreamed of, especially in October 2018 when everything was falling to shit at successive patterns. It was definitely the worst. It was all so gruelling, the task of keeping myself sane everyday. It came to a point where I couldn’t eat or breathe properly anymore because I kept having these ugly little thoughts. I couldn’t afford therapy then, and my meds were pricey as fuck. Somehow, Sertraline tablets got more expensive over the months. It wasn’t the most endearing thought, me having to ingest candy-like contraptions just to survive day-to-day basics.
Right now, I am doing okay. Mostly. But the past three months really made me think about some decisions I had to make, and continue to make. What really bothers me are the plans I have—and the fear that most of them won’t ever pan out. Somehow, there’s this part of me that just knows it won’t pan out. Primarily because of the financing difficulties I’ll inevitably come across with. With the current job I have and the budgeting set up I have, it really is financially impossible for me to go through the list of things I want to do.
Last year, going to law school was the priority, and the only thing I had on my radar. Right now I don’t even know if I really want to go. The purpose is still there—helping people. But the gruelling, taxing years it will take me to get there really scares me. What If I end up killing more parts of me along the way, right? I couldn’t afford that.
It is so hard to dream in a caged environment, really. It’s like a cyclical cage I keep ending up on—creatively, financially and mentally caged by everything. It’s like there’s this algorithm-run society inside me that I automatically fall back into once a small inconvenience happens.
Why can’t I do what I want without having to go through shit? All my life has been about enduring bullshit. I think I deserve some struggle-free journey this time. Others would say that you create your own sunshine. But I’m really fucking tired of working for sunshine, or whatever idea of peace and light there is to achieve. Why can’t it come to me this time and get me? This year is becoming harder and harder for me to live with. I am at peace but not at all, at the same time. It’s like I’m constantly looking for a new place to begin.
God, if You’re reading this, I hope You know I am trying my hardest to live. But what can I do if the environment I chose to live in is downright asking me to put away so much of myself for me to survive?
It’s hard to get around the wind.
These days, my life, I feel it has no purpose,
But late at night the feelings swim to the surface.
