I’m weighed by a lot of little things lately. My self esteem is nearing its lowest level.
I don’t have a grand problem. No. There are just tons of things that remind me of how messed up my life is right now and probably, this is part of what people call the “quarter life crisis.”
While dealing with the nuts and bolts of my daily life, I couldn’t help but feel helpless and when I’m helpless, I fantasize a lot. I don’t remember telling someone about this before but I have a sick fantasy which I play in my mind every time I am feeling blue.
I imagine having an incurable disease, not the contagious one, but something that would somehow limit my time on earth — that will serve as a finish line that I can see while racing through this life.
The disease thing is the on the top of my mind but given the small probability of it (but who knows, right?), I always think about getting into an accident and not surviving.
Yep. I fantasize about death. It’s sick, but I do it anyway.
Thoughts about death usually hit me when I’m on my bed and forcing myself to sleep while at the same time enumerating all the bad things that keep on happening. I know, I know. There are really really bad days, and there are good ones too. I don’t think the bad ones overpower the good, but I do think the intensity of the negative ones consumes me so much… So much I’d rather shut down.
I could not escape weird thoughts, especially when I’m alone — riding a cab or jeepney; killing time inside a coffee shop; taking long late night walks.
So as not to offend those that are actually sick and waiting for their turn to cross to the other side, I would not give examples on the diseases. But trust me, I have them in mind. I did research and somehow mapped out how I’m going to deal with them.
When I think about getting sentenced to death, I make a mental plan of what am I going to do and to whom I’d spend my last days with.
Yesterday, I went on sick leave because of nausea. Suddenly, the thought came to my mind again. So in my imagination, since most of my time these days are spent with people from work, I told my closest work friend that I’m about to die. I didn’t work on a grand goodbye but instead, I gave her letters I wrote for some friends at work. Those words tell them how much I’m thankful to have met them and at the same time highlight a particular characteristic of each one or a moment I spent with each of them that makes me appreciate the friendship.
Example, a friend who keeps on calling me “baby girl” and always hugs me and calls my attention whenever I’m grumpy in a nice way.
There’s another who, for some reason, walked with me from an event to a press office. The sun was setting when we left, and it’s already dark when we arrived. So that must be a really long walk, but we didn’t mind. This person was the same I tried to ignore when I saw her inside the MRT, even though we are already friends then.
Trust me one more time. I had them outlined in my mind.
The accident, which occurs to me seldom, involves several scenarios but always involving a vehicle: a friend’s car, MRT, or even a cab!
So yeah. This is insane. But it’s true. This is probably one secret I finally let out. I don’t have much anyway. My favorites are this one and the other which involves a guy I had a huge crush on way back in college (and no one, not even my best friend knew it back then. I only told her very recently. Hehe)
So whatever. I don’t know how to end this post but yeah, I’m probably losing my sanity. I’ve been using the word “sad” a little often than usual the past few days and yesterday, I found a better word. It’s “lonely”. I didn’t even know the difference, because we were taught in elementary that they are synonyms.
Nonetheless, I’m sticking with the word “lonely” because it feels right. Like it was made to match what I feel.
Tomorrow, I hope to write about happiness. Because a friend, just recently and out of the blue, asked me a question I couldn’t answer: “What makes you happy?”
And I’d been trying to write about it right after our night out but I couldn’t seem to find my voice.