I always tend to overthink, oftentimes to my own detriment. Sometimes, rather most times, I would suppose that it isn’t personal but I also tend to take things very personally and assume the worst of everything when someone does something or some shit things happen. It’s not a very helpful way of thinking I know, and techniques such as CBT would probably help although knowing about it theoretically and being able to apply it practically are two different things.
That said, I know it also doesn’t serve me any good despite that I am aware of this overthinking tendency but am either unable to snap out of it or unwilling to put in the effort to do so because it involves a huge move of inertia. It has been an exhausting few months ever since COVID hit us. The isolation that comes as a free add on that nobody asked for, when we started the distancing measures that began with telecommuting, although initially a welcomed change but over a protracted period that got skewed when the distancing included social movements and interactions, took a massive toll.
For months, I’ve had reduced interaction with people beyond the superficialities of hi-bye/how’s the weather/how are you doing, with people I “socialise” with when I purchase food from them. For a period I couldn’t even meet my family or friends, and even now it’s harder to meet up with friends due to various reasons that included a renewed sense of priorities when people start to become more selective of how to spend their socialising time after the coronavirus situation that made us all rethink who are really worth spending time with perhaps? Living alone, I think even for someone who is used to being alone and need a lot of personal time, it’s becoming hard to bear when I start to get tired of talking to myself, that often is predated by triggers that are negative and get me into a monologue of tirade lashing out at God and people or things that are the triggering factors. There’s too much negative self talk and too much unhealthy and messy outbursts that only end up exhausting me even more. Whatever little interest I’ve had in day to day life, the tiny little bouts of fleeting joy, no longer seem to be enough or felt. Life just lost its meaning altogether, not that I’ve ever felt there was any in my life. As time drags on, each day just seem like any other and I just kept wishing I could leave for good. There’s no purpose worth going on for and nothing to live for or look forward to, no one for me to even look forward to seeing, meeting, talking to… what gets one going each day, to want to see the sun rise the next morning? As I stay stuck in places, physical and metaphorical, the sense of hopelessness continues to perpetuate and grow deep roots that further latch me to the sinking feeling of desolation. I cry out to be liberated and for a way out, an open door, but each passing day just seem to dim out the light a little more.
This morning as I woke and went about my usual routine of tidying up the room and making the bed, it came to a part where I came to the window to pull it shut. I stood looking out as a cool dawn breeze lightly floated in, carrying a crisp freshness of air as the sky began lightening. I glanced about and looked down at the rooftop terrace atop the multistory car park and wondered, ‘How painful would it be?’, ‘Would my heart really stop beating on my way down, or would I be conscious all the way till my body, or maybe my head, smashes against the hard concrete?’ These thoughts somehow just came so naturally but as I thought them, I couldn’t help but feel my eyes misting up.
Do I wish for something better to make the flame start to burn a little brighter, if there’s any to begin with? I don’t know. Why am I feeling so tired. How did I end up here like that? Why has it become this way?
Then… I also need to constantly remind myself and acknowledge that in life, things and people happen for seasons and reasons. Some things or people may seem to be fitting for a period, things that we may enjoy doing or love having and using, people whom we feel a kindred connection to like no other, yet when the season is over, there is no merit in hanging on and holding on to them. It’s an overused and stale cliche now to say how it is useful to “Marie Kondo” one’s life, things and surroundings and it includes everything even people. When people choose to stop engaging for whatever reasons, I need to tell myself it’s not personal and if upon early reflection it really isn’t due to anything wrong I’ve done then I should let go and quit hanging on desperately. Even if it means my already small and dwindling social circle or support network constricts even further it’s a veracity of life I have to accept and live with, and be grateful or happy when new ones pop up and come into my life, if they do. Life shouldn’t be able the size of this network and certainly it shouldn’t be that my own feeling of self worth hinges on it.