Or perhaps, in a less pretentious tone, why is life always so difficult?
Whilst generally being a reasonably easy-going person, my defining natural tendency is to be stressed. Those who know me will, I’m sure, be able to back me up on this: my irritations with daily life experiences such as poorly trained animals (especially children), grammatically incorrect Facebook posts and tabloid journalism as a field, result in at best a sarcastic comment and at worst a full-blown rant at the nearest unfortunate recipient. Whilst its easy to laugh about this when the things are small and inconsequential, I often find myself wondering if this general uptight nature isn’t the cause of bigger emotional upheavals in my life.
I think it’s accurate to say that I can’t remember the last time I didn’t have some kind of deep emotional turmoil raging through my mind. Whilst varying in subject, duration and intensity, I’ve always been caught up with one thing or another. Part of this is due to my character: I tend to think a lot about things, though sadly this thinking often occurs after I’ve ‘done goofed’ rather than before. As such I’m self-reflective: I can dedicate a good portion of most days to thinking about myself, be it about events in my life, my general well-being, or my relationships with other people.
People tell me I overthink things. This is undoubtedly true, and I don’t deny it, but I would question whether thinking a lot is necessarily a bad thing. On the one hand, it can bring a rational perspective to an emotional problem. Much as it is pointless to invent something and never build it, refusing to ground your problem in the real world will not only prevent you from finding any kind of solution, but can also spiral you into deeper states of sadness and misery. By accepting your emotions as part of your life experience, you learn to deal with them in a way that enables you to function as a human being. On the other hand, misery loves company, and I think that when dealing with negative emotions over an extended period of time, there is always a danger of losing yourself in them. Wallowing in self-pity is never productive, and more to the point, it slowly grinds down your willpower. If your entire self is dedicated to trying to deal with sadness, it soon becomes hard to see the good in anything. It’s easy to become bitter, jealous, angry. And in the end you just get tired. So, so tired.
But then, that’s life. I wish I could turn it all off sometimes. Just for a little bit. To float away from this place and just switch off. My constant worrying does wear me down, and I’m scared sometimes. I’m scared I’ll always be like this, and I’m scared that one day I won’t be. That one day I’ll just give up, give in to the tiny little voice in my head that tells me it’s pointless. That the easiest thing to do is to just cut everyone and everything off, and drift alone in this lonely existence. It really is tempting, and, whilst I hope it isn’t so, maybe one day I will feel that way.
But not yet. Not today.