Anxiety, Sadness and Time Travelling

IMG_20221012_181919.jpg

By next month, I'm going to pass over the mid-20 threshold and turn 26.
To those who can relate to internet memes, I will be considered "undateable" by Leonardo De Caprio. To those who can relate to the Bridgerton series, I will be considered an "old spinster" according to Lady Danbury.
To those who can relate to getting health insurance, I will not be legible for health insurance coverage through a parent's plan.

In other words, I dread a new level of sinister in the "sink or swim" arena of adulthood.

IMG_20221014_172852.jpg

My weekend has been tumultuous because of it. An overwhelming inflation is on the rise, and the groceries that I could adequately afford previously at PHP 1000, is now nearing PHP 2000.

A simple trip to the grocery store last weekend sent my head spiraling out of control. How the hell am I going to afford my dreams when the very things I am working to save and accumulate is reducing in value? I refuse to accept that ending of the amount of time I spent saving up. This is a testament to my previous post on how much I don't sit well with uncertainty.

I am turning a year older, emotionally unequipped and impaired to face life.
I am turning a year older, confused as ever at the steps I need to take.
I am turning a year older and I am still haunted by the repercussions of the steps I previously took.

I realized that I am not as resilient as I'd like to think, and I spent the past few days in a state of time travelling. Never fully present. Haunted by past mistakes. Anxious about the future. Coping via food, alcohol and other instantly gratifying ventures more than I could stomach.

I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one who feels this way, right? Or am I?

IMG_20221014_192754.jpg

One thing's for sure though. My soul is extremely exhausted. I believe it has always been. This probably make me all the more hypocritical knowing that I preach these things to people.

I'd like to think of myself with a handle on discouragement, but the past few days reminded me in intense fashion of my ordinariness: with ordinary limitations, paralyzed by fear, but somehow going a million miles per hour at the intensity of Queen's Don't Stop Me Now played on repeat:

"I'm burnin' through the sky, yeah
200 degrees, that's why they call me Mister Fahrenheit
I'm travelling at the speed of light"

The irony of it all was that, it was raised during Sunday Service-- to "slow down" so that our souls could catch up. How do you do that when you were engrained with the belief to always be ahead of the chase? To always be on top of your game? Because there's nothing for anyone in the middle or for anyone who gets left behind.

To be conditioned to constantly live in fear like that is not something that could be changed at the flick of a light switch. It took years to reinforce that belief, and it will take years to replace it with something better.

IMG_20221014_195821.jpg

The impact of all these tumultuous thoughts are magnified at the presence of my yearly seasonal visitor (Seasonal Affective Disorder). I am currently combatting it by decreasing my caffeine intake, exposing myself to outdoors with a lot of sunlight, withdrawing from work when need be, movement, transparency of my struggles, and more time with safe spaces.

The thing is, I have experience. I know what to do. I have dealt with this before for the last years, but somehow, when it hits, it still hits like a sledgehammer. I still feel like novice: helpless, powerless, anhedonic, alone, afraid, with a chest so heavy I could feel it suffocate, and somehow all the illusions I set for myself up to this point start crashing down.

My low morale at work due to my late salary, infinite workload, and the ever-increasing devaluing of the peso.
My barrage of insecurities, from my appearance, to my sense of competence and reliability are challenged to a fault.
My constant exhaustion and feelings of being breadcrumbed by life.
Old wounds opening up.
Losing meaning in things.

There is relapse. There is pain. There is fear, like being on top of a burning building and deciding whether or not to succumb to the flames, or succumb to another horrid death by jumping off. All you could do at this point is scream.

IMG_20221012_183227.jpg

The temptation to isolate, to regress, to ruminate, to overcompensate in other areas, to question more and more about this exhausting existence, to let go of the voice of reason and truth, are stronger now more than ever, and I doubt it will be the last time that I will randomly tear up, or breakdown in the presence or absence of mundane or slightly overwhelming tasks.

I know (this writeup is disturbing) my writeups have been disturbing. In fact, as of writing this, I am still contemplating on whether or not I should have this published for fear that the intensity and overwhelming rawness in it will be unwelcomed or viewed with much scrutiny.

IMG_20221014_173220.jpg

But somehow, I take comfort in the fact that these mere human struggles are relatable. It puts things in perspective-- that I am not just doing this for myself, but for a higher purpose of relating to people who are going through the same nature of human suffering as I am. I'd like to think it helps wash out the loneliness. I'd like to think it helps drown out the shame. I'd like to think it helps let in the light.

And when I do die an untimely death, along with the death of my hopes, dreams, and everything in between, before realizing my true purpose in this world? At least a piece of me will remain in this quiet little corner of the internet.

I know this is only temporary. I know there will be better days. I know I will be okay.

But maybe for now, while I'm not, I'll just accept things the way they are and make ample room for my tattered soul, for the heaviness in my chest, for the sadness in my lungs, before I set them free.


Featuring:
Artworks from Bohol Expo 2022


About The Protean Creator:

IMG_20221015_103351.jpg

Roxanne Marie is the twenty-year-old something who calls herself the Protean Creator.

She is a chemical engineer by profession, pole-dancer and blogger by passion and frustration, and lastly, a life enthusiast. She is on a mission to rediscover her truth through the messy iterative process of learning, relearning and unlearning. Currently, she works as a science and research instructor in her hometown, Tagbilaran City, all the while documenting her misadventures, reflections and shenanigans as a working-class millennial here on Hive.

If you like her content, don't forget to upvote and leave a comment to show some love. It would be an honor to have this post reblogged as well. Also, don't forget to follow her to be updated with her latest posts.

H2
H3
H4
3 columns
2 columns
1 column
11 Comments