I don't know if I feel like myself. But I don't know if I don't feel like myself, either.
Whenever I try to take control of a part of my life that was weighing me down in some way, I always let the other parts slip a little due to negligence. I'm like one of those crazy, over-stressed moms who's just trying to settle a fight between two of her kids, while her toddler is in her highchair spilling milk and spaghetti sauce everywhere, and the doorbell is ringing, and the oven is telling her that the chicken is done, and also she has stress at work on her mind, and has to actually be in a conference call in like five minutes (because my simile-mom is does it all).
I mean it's not that bad. And not exactly equivalent. Because the difference is that my hypothetical mom has things happening to her, whereas I bring hardships onto myself.
Motivation is an elusive beast. And if you're lucky enough to capture him, he's hard to keep.
I finally feel healthy and happy about myself, but I also feel like I'm letting responsibilities and relationships rot on the side. I'm always looking for a balance, and I just can't seem to figure out the formula. I've been trying to find it my whole life. I think this means I never will, right? I mean, isn't that the whole point of living? Trying to get to that point when you can actually smile knowing you finally figured it all out?
But it shouldn't be that way. We're always looking towards the future for answers and comfort, but shouldn't we be looking within ourselves instead? I guess that's scary because we don't always like what we find there. And in those cases, unhealthy ways of coping creep in without us realizing. Their insidious onset leaves us more than vulnerable when storms from the external world are thrown at us without warning. The positive feedback from the hurt, pain, and defenselessness just cause another domino to fall, taking down another with it.
It's a lot easier watching everything collapse than it is to set it all up again.
You have to try though. That's where humanity lies, I think; in the struggle. In the effort that seems futile because you're alone.
Do you ever notice how everyone is always talking, but never saying anything? It's a static, low murmur that creates the background noise to everything. It emphasizes that feeling of loneliness, doesn't it?
And that loneliness makes the trying so much harder to justify.
But you're not really alone. You may know that, but you have to believe it. And once you do, I think that's when you find the life you've been looking for.