Living my best life.... not

I saw a post on Instagram the other day that said something like: “I don’t know if I’m in the worst state of my life or am I living my best life.”

I relate to this statement so deeply almost so that I feel like a sim character that just got programmed to feel as the algorithm told me to and am currently doing some sort of meta observation of my own psyche within the said reality.

I feel like my cup is filled to the brim overflowing with blessings, energy and warmth and at the same time that cup is set on a boat that is being trashed by treacherous waters. I feel the most at home in my own skin and my thoughts than I’ve ever had and yet at the same I feel like a stranger sleeping in my bed visiting the web of thoughts in my head.

There are days I feel so alive, filled with such hope and willingness to stay still and just match the energy of what the universe is sending my way . And other days I’m filled with such dread, anxiety and the agitated emotions of someone who just wants to scream at everyone that’s in my way.

Some days I wake up from nightmares with pains in my chest, with the urge to call up everyone to comfort me and fill up my emotional void. On others I wake up with the sun shining on my face with so much gratitude and appreciation for those around me that I just want to get out of the house and tell every single one of them.

Do I always feel my emotions in such extremities? Yes. Am I trying to channel more calming and mellow energy? Yes. Is it working? No. That's all for today kids, stay tuned for another episode existential crisis by me.

3 Weeks..... a timeline of change

I had a little sore throat around 3 weeks ago. Within those three weeks it developed into a wheezing cough, a phlegmy cough, then into a cough that kept me up at night, giving me chills and having me stay away from spice —- one of the main things that brings joy to my life.

In those three weeks I also received some news that was anticipated but nonetheless stirred up a storm in me. In those three weeks I mourned, denied, ruminated, celebrated and fumed. I was going through a roller coaster of emotions, this is nothing new if you know me, but this was a different version. It was as If I took the contents of two years of emotions, concentrated it, rapidly froze it, broke it down into granules, and watered it down hot water and downed it, just like instant coffee. Enduring the whole complicated process, just to pour it down my throat in one go.

But at the same time, those three weeks also filled my cup. I immersed myself in things that brought me joy (other than spice), good food, good company, good memories. I dressed up to feel good about myself, I watched sad movies to validate myself, I made new playlists to match my new energy and I ate cake, lots of cake. I was in my element and in that state I celebrated another year of my existence.

3 weeks. How naive of me to think that I had survived the worst of it. A cycle of my period hasn’t even passed me by, my skin hasn’t even shed anew and the moon hasn’t even gone through all its phases. It was just the beginning.

Roll over baby....

Last night I had one of the most terrible sleep I’ve had in a while. I slept on my back like my physio told me to, instead of having the usual comfort of curling up like a fragile fetus, I am flat as a charcuterie board lying there enduring the back pain and stress of a young adult who has bad posture and a dry bank account.

I toss and turn to the sound of the sleep hypnosis recording that my friend shared with me that put me to sleep a fair amount of times, with this night not being one of them, the sound of the calming meditation filling me up with waves of anxiety instead of ease. I roll over and turn off the voice recording and proceed to curl up into fetus position, fuck good posture or fixing my back pain, right now I’m prioritizing my now pain.

“God please let me fall into deep sleep so I can proceed to feel like a normal person in the morning, not an agitated ball of anxious and easily irritated energy that will stomp around other people who are just trying to exist in peace.”

Back to this silent prayer and message to God and the universe to stop poking me because sleeping alone amidst this current life problem combo really isn’t the most desirable night in.

Will it get better? Probably. Will I feel this way again? Also probably. Am I full of hope claiming all the good vibes the universe is sending me? Trust me, I’m trying. Tune in for another episode of stressed, slightly depressed and easily impressed-- my life chronicles.