I’ve spent like a month writing and then crossing out how I want this to come out. I go through bouts and depression and anxiety. They’ve been more frequent lately, and I can’t quite point out the cause. When my head doesn’t just feel static-y, I just replay a bunch of hypotheticals over and over again. Maybe I’d still be playing football had I negotiated better in BC? Maybe I’d feel more complete, more whole if my big brother was mentally “there”? Maybe my heart would be healthier if I learned to be better at letting go? Maybe I’d be in a better place mentally had I not spent last year’s off-season in LA? Moments I feel like talking about things, feelings – they come and go. I wait for them to go, until they linger too long, and then I write about them. This is the best way I know how to share my feelings, insecurities, regrets, and flaws without feeling like a burden to others. Eventually, things get better, clarity will come, whether permanently or fleeting. I’m being vague right now, let me try to change that.
I’m in a dope coffee joint in St. Paul, Claddagh Coffee. Irish themed joint, dope décor, some live folk music while I’m going back and forth from writing a letter to a friend, checking my phone far too often, and closing my eyes and rubbing my temples (does this ever actually help when your head hurts or is it a placebo effect type thing?). It’s in the 20’s and flurrying outside, it’s gray, and I’m tired for no particular reason. I’m trying to force myself to write, feel some sort of creative wave/energy, but I’ve got nothing. I can barely focus on this book I started four months ago. Maybe it’s the winter blue’s (because winter starts in early November here), but I doubt it. I miss friends, close friends.
In the past 18 months, I’ve changed careers, chosen to go back to school (in Canada), had my heart and willpower all the way broken, used bodies as band-aids to cover up said heartbreak, not kept up with those I’ve considered dear to me, moved across the country and (in the process of moving) back. My body feels better than it has in a long time, but I still toss and turn in my sleep, wake up with my back hurting, and grunt like a senior citizen when I sit down or get up. I’ve drank myself to sleep, multiple times. I’ve isolated myself, pushed people away, and half the time, it hasn’t even been a conscious thing. I just acknowledge these folks in my head and then forget about it.
You know how whenever you’re in a dark room, you move real slow, with caution, because you have no idea where you’re going or what’s ahead, or even in that room with you? I’ve got no idea where this path is taking me, because my head/heart are leading me nowhere specific. So I’m moving through life, baby-stepping in no particular direction, hands out Frankenstein-style tryna feel my way to some sort of buoy, I guess.
I used to observe and appreciate the more minute details about coffee joints like this. The uneven stone block walls downstairs contrasting with the upstairs brick, wooden bar, nature prints on the wall, the curves on the patterned ceiling, the smell of cinnamon and the grinding of coffee beans amid conversations about bad dates and strangers’ family drama in the background. Less and less have I been able to focus on those details, write anything of quality, feel like I’m not just going through days on auto-pilot. Honestly, even this writing is shit – I don’t know if I’d still be reading it. I know this isn’t a forever type feeling, but I’m trying to be in the moment, regardless if it feels mad sucky. This moment feels like it’s been stretching far too long, this funk floating over me like smog in LA. I just needed to acknowledge it and get it out there, because I take the time to share the good things that happen in my life, interesting things. It’s only fair to myself and others that I don’t falsely advertise a carefree existence where everything is sunshine and rainbows and interesting and amazing 24/7.
Life is still an adventure. Not every moment is going to be enjoyable, or exhilarating. Some are going to suck, and that’s fair, even though it may feel unfair. It feels cruel right now to be so full of second-guessing my path in hindsight. It’ll get better, it just hasn’t yet.