Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Wishing and praying

This sucks.

I know I'm responsible for myself, and I truly enjoy doing that. But this current crisis sucks. I can't find a flat or a shared house in York. Well, I can, but I can't find what I liked, and have it, too.

I don't like how things are so out of my control. That I'm at the mercy of not just my own, but also another person's limited spending power. That so much rides on whether someone took a shine on us, or not.

I hate the waiting, I can't help how anxious I feel and how angry I get and how worked up I become while I wait. With a mixture of hope and dejection. Of not daring, but still going for it.

Rippling out from the deepest of my soul, the negativity and bad juju not just affects, but consumes me whole and I turn monstrous. I am truly and utterly ashamed of myself, and of my shameful behaviour, reaction and mindset.

Lately, in an introspective phase, I begin to truly wonder if I can be content. That lesson that I never learned. Still have not. I know I'm young, and I choose this path of uncertainty and unpredictables, but oh, the strength needed to sustain good, positive thoughts and keep going on.

I am truly scared of myself. Of how unhappy I am willing to be. How I dwell so much on the bad and dismiss the good. And lately, how easily my thoughts creep to giving up when I don't deserve to, when new and exciting things are happening and big changes abound. It's just that the end results remain the same: no matter which way I see it, I end up back where I started. And these couple of years, I could chalk it up to amazing experience, but I choose to see it as an abrupt end to a long-term project I started and not ready to finish yet. Not by long shot. In short, why am I doing all this when in the end it means nothing?

Now you see what I mean? From a simple issue at hand, my mind dwells and digs up all the issues I face, short and long term, and hook them in my heart, clawing and scratching.

Underwater with no air.

I need to break into the surface pronto, and breath. With no cue. And stay there paddling.

I wish I am able to talk with those near and dear. I feel so alone. And worried. I wish I can share and get a sobbing shoulder, and relieve The Boy of his duties for a while. I am afraid of this: that I'm driving him away. And if there is indeed a Higher Being, and I am of the agnostic stock, then tonight I get on my knees and pray for relief. For the jigsaw to fall into place. For my sanity. For hope. And for belief. I pray.

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