Wake me up
Wake me up inside
A
blank piece of paper and no words to describe who or where I am right now and
what it is I am feeling. I stare into the abyss and it stares right back at me.
There
is no clarity, there is no ‘going forward’. I am scared, feel hopeless and discouraged.
I don’t feel adequate.
The
talk I listened to last night said she noticed that usually when women feel
like an impostor it’s because the job is not right for them. I don’t know a lot,
and instead of making me excited i feel disheartened. I do not feel challenged,
I feel embarrassed at what I don’t know. I do not feel like I am making progress,
I feel like an idiot who learned a bit about how to function better in the
given context.
Got to open my eyes to everything
My
procrastinating self.
I’m
really blessed to have G. The days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months
and somehow it feels like we’ve lived years. He helps out, earlier he came in
and brought me breakfast. I was too stressed out to think about it, with my two presentations I haven't started yet, let alone
prepare it.
‘I
get paid to think, so I read every day’. I read this article yesterday
during one of my procrastination bouts about Romanians being the European
nation who reads the least. I thought about myself and how I read articles
every day but I do not have the patience to read them entirely and most often
skim them, and how I can’t remember what’s the last book I finished. So I’m
starting this new thing where I try to read
20 mins/day. My hope is it will improve my train of thought, my chain of ideas,
maybe my resilience. My Romanian and
English have both become rustier overall.
My
life is chaotic and it’s beginning to exhaust me.
I
used to write more and my ideas didn’t seem as disjointed as they are now. Writing
used to be therapeutic to some extent. I used to unload the burdens I’d been
carrying by writing my thoughts down. I would them carry on. I haven’t done that
in a long while. Instead I started playing my own version of ‘Kwazy Kupcakes’ and
pretend that relieves the stress.
I
am unhappy when I think about the things I do not have, anxious when I think of
the next step in my adulting life – owning a place – and paying mortgage installments.
I can’t find that many things that bring me joy anymore. It’s sad, and I am pretending
things are fine, but the person who matters most, me, already knows it ain’t so
– a powerful snake that’s been eating its tail.
