“My thought is me: that is why I cannot stop thinking. I exist because I think I cannot keep from thinking.” – Jean-Paul Sartre
I’ve been having trouble sleeping again and I wonder if my insomnia is back, bringing its other friends along. But instead of popping a sedative like I should, I choose to obsess. And I obsess with all my might.
Am I estranged or do I consider myself an orphan? Does it matter? Till when can I continue ignoring my mother’s blocked calls? Will I ever speak to my parents again? I think I must, but do I really have to? When will that be? I’m never going to have kids or pets, am I, if I’m having such a tough job reparenting myself? Will I ever feel whole enough to nurture another living soul again? Or even practically capable enough? What’s going to be my next job? Do I continue to be a doctor, and if not, what then? Do I want to? But that requires so much more studying, and studying first requires desensitizing and then finding the security of time and money. When will I have that? Will I ever have that? How much money is enough money to feel financially secure or just secure enough to be able to study without worrying about food-clothing-shelter? When will I stop struggling to feel my sense of self-worth beyond the scope of academics and ambition?
How do I make peace with not being in control without forsaking my own agency? Is that why I am so scared of making decisions now? How do I get my trust issues to stop making me fear certainty and commitment to any future, plan, person, or even to myself? Perhaps that’s why I can’t even stick with the same therapist for more than a few sessions. For how long do I have to continue being my own mother, father, partner, friend, and mentor? It’s honestly more exhausting than fulfilling at this point. How do I resolve the paradox of wanting to seek new meaningful connections but being emotionally unavailable? Also, how much self-love is love enough to not feel threatened with feeling loved by other people in a sustainable way? I remember my life feeling enough at one point. Will anything ever seem enough again? Am I doomed already because I think not? Do I even really want answers or am I just secretly looking for more questions to play with?
Earlier, I used to fear that I’d never fall in love, but now I simply fear that I’ll never again love deeply without caution, romantic or otherwise, and that makes everything seem bleaker, for doesn’t that make caution a condition? And what really is the point of any of it then? If I am sentenced to living a guarded life, even if it’s pain-free, it isn’t actually any better, is it?
Part of me hopes that writing this falls under an exercise in empowering the self by embracing vulnerabilities rather than rebelling in a self-destructive way, while part of me just doesn’t care; and part of me wonders why I must weigh and judge every thought and action of mine, for if I’ve pledged to stop holding myself to past knowledge of myself, doesn’t constantly tabulating new information about myself contradict that stance? Because if I’ve refused to keep negotiating my soul with my family, why must I persist in doing so with myself?
The more I heal, the more I discover how deeply the scars run. Was I misguided in believing that trauma and grief laid down foundations of my depression while actually they were just complimentary, and depression is in essence a part of my core? Have I only been indulging myself with ideas of healing and a new life, when actually I’m only going through a remission period with another relapse just round the corner? After all, a new life doesn’t really mean a new birth or new childhood, and while my new evolved self may be better equipped with healthier coping mechanisms compared to my past selves, I still am capable of restricting my doing by my thinking, because one can’t ever truly escape themselves in this world, can they?
On most days, I find that to be a blessing, but tonight, it feels like a curse. I know, I know, it’s all about the perspective, but I don’t have the energy to change mine right now. So for tonight, I surrender.
And I guess that has to be okay, too.