I am so sad.
I am eating to run.
The food is not working.
I turn to the TV. I don’t normally have one. It numbs me. I like it.
I feel I have escaped, like a worm in the bottom of bottle of tequila.
I like this drunk feeling.
But I know it will pass.
So then I will sleep.
But what about the next morning, the next day, and every day after that? It will be the same: the emptiness, the deafening void.
But it doesn’t matter for now. I can lose myself here. I can opt out of life.
But why would I opt out if what I really want is to live? I want to explore and travel and experience and soar. Why would act as a spectator in my life? Why is this void so scary? What am I really running from? Why are my feelings so scary?
Because I’m meant to be happy all the time. That’s how I was brought up and, that’s what social media reflects back to me.
There is no sobbing into my pillow or existential anxiety on waking. I’m not to feel overwhelmed when something is well within my capabilities, and I’m not meant to regret the one-too-many chocolates I’ve eaten today. It’s not meant to be like this.
It’s meant to be perfect.
But it’s not.
And it is.
It is perfect exactly as it is: the highs, the lows, the being 100% present with friends, and distracting when it feels too much.
The seasons of life aren’t the same every day, every hour, every week, every year. This is perfection.
This perfect duality lets me experience the stillness somewhere in between, like the pause between an inhale and exhale. Both have to be there for life to continue. And one is not better than the other. Both have to exist.
Light, dark. Sadness, joy. The void and connection.
You only appreciate what you have when it’s not there. And then you learn to appreciate it when it is.
This is perfect. Just as the lack of appreciation is. It all has a role of play. It all teaches us a valuable lesson.
To know what perfection really is.
And that, is everything.