Hello again, long time no see. I do wish I had a sophisticated reason why I’ve been absent on the blog, or at least a good enough reason but unfortunately, I don’t. But instead the traditional apology and jumping back in the middle of things, I’d like to talk to you about the last five weeks and the sort of stuff that took most of my energy and focus away from my creative endeavours.
Like my health.
I started 2019 with a terrible cold. It wasn’t the illness itself that took its toll, but rather my incapacity to go about my day as usually, follow my routine and rhythm, and putting the work into the things that matter to me, and eventually made the object of my New Year’s goals and resolutions. The state of my physical health has distracted me from my top priority at the time, exam season, and its effects were felt in my performance. When the cold did go away, a bad cough remained, only to flourish back into a shy mini-flu two weeks later. My back is hurting again from working at a desk ten hours a day, and my muscles ache for pulling weights and stretching freely again.
My mental health’s been playing up. January blues and the incessant, tricky feeling of burnout have made good friends with my mind. My brain has grown used to giving its all to everything and everyone, every single day, and not much ended up on my lap towards the evening. Stress and anxiety have made me crumble under the weight of questions I am not ready yet to find an answer for. My fear and worries urge me from behind to run faster, so much so that I have ended up not looking around me anymore and enjoying the ride.
Then, there were the people.
Back when I was sixteen and a fake-edgy, hipster wannabe, I used to say I feel so misunderstood because it sounded cool, but I have now realised it is actually going the other way around. I don’t think I understand people, and I don’t think I understand myself either. I am awfully intelligent, but not in the emotional department and that’s shown lately. The more I mess up, the stronger I believe that throughout the years, I’ve put together a dictionary of meanings and explanations I attribute to people’s words and behaviours. And I’ve recently started to realise I got all the definitons wrong and, in fact, the purpose of such a handbook is void in itself and I should just throw it in the fire.
Things haven’t always been sketchy, though. These days more than ever, I bathe in the pure joy and light of having real, mindful friends. I am so lucky to see these people every week and live my last proper year of university on their side.
For the past five weeks, I’ve been keen on standing in my own way.
Tripping over my own feet in the rush, choosing a pair of burning lugs over the sweet, peaceful pulse of the marathon. Making my younger self proud, then losing her ruthlessly. Falling and bleeding, too impatient to pause and take a good look at the wounds, patching them up as appropriate. Forgetting my philosophy, my ethos, my end game and the preserved taste of victory, all at once.
Yes, I’d argue something hasn’t gone right along the way.
I probably don’t know much at the moment, but I do know one thing for sure: by going back and reminiscing, and gaining a slight gist of where I wanted to be at the beginning of this journey, I’m giving myself a chance get back on track. Definitely not a fresh start, but more of a reorientation. A shift, a change of seasons in the pit of my chest, the jazz. More passion, more compassion, more youth because the most shocking revelation these days for me is the fact that I am just 21.
And for the love of God, yes, I’m taking you with me.
Posts will resume like normal from this week onward, with an update for my Smashing Resolutions series up on Wednesday. Although I have a plethora of ideas for blog and social media content, I’m keen on hearing what you want to see, so let me know down in the comments section! Looking forward to seeing you back here in a couple of days.
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