Checking in at springtime again. The same old manic approach. As soon as the days get longer and the sun shines brighter, anxiety blossoms inside of me, highlighting everything I ‘need to do now’ to avoid the feeling of failure and the doldrums. I recognise the face in the reflection of the train station windows – the face of me whilst living at 400mph, forgetting my values, whilst searching for that stand from which to shout my values from. This fear: I struggle to contain it in the sun – I can almost feel the whip cracking me on the back, with a master saying ‘this is where the year truly starts! now go! go and play!’ I like to manically rush about at times. I know it is bad and I feel like I am soaking up the oxygen from the grasp of everyone else’s nostrils, and I know it is my method of running away from things, but at this instant it feels better to be speeding nowhere at 400mph.
Fear always causes me to race ahead, to a hazy, dreamlike, unrealistically better future. Fear gets going, pumping through my veins as I start to plan my day ahead, as if it were more like a war than a normal day. Always jumping too soon; waking up too early; tiring out too early; trying to leave places too early, and giving in to the gloom too early at the end of it all.
The more reading I have started doing, the less confidence I have in my own opinions.