I’m convinced that this anxiety running through my life is the tension between what I “should be” and what I am. My anxiety doesn’t come from thinking about the future but from wanting to control it. It seems to begin whenever I smuggle into my mind an expectation about how I or others should be. It is the tension between my desire to control the world and the recognition that I can’t. “I will be what I will be” – where is the anxiety in that? Anxiety is the recognition that I might not reach the rung on the opinion ladder I have just set for my self. I fear death most when I am about to exceed what I believe others think of me; then death threatens to cut me off from myself, because “myself” is not yet.
― Hugh Prather
It’s never going to end, is it? One frustration will pave the way to another and before you know it, you’re spiraling into depression. Many times I have come to the brink, the almost-end. I’ve never been suicidal, no. Death seems too final. Maybe it’s the optimist in me that’s holding out hope for better things to come. They always make an entrance somehow — some grand, others discreet. Breathe in, dig deep, and learn from the reality of it all. Be grateful.
Humanity’s downfall, I have come to realize, is believing in a grand plan. There is no such thing. I suspect that the reason why it is so difficult for us to grasp that nothing is predetermined is the fact that we all desperately need to believe in something, even in fallacies such as destiny and fate, to keep us from unraveling.
In truth, I am a fool. But I have grown wiser through the years. A little older, a little more astute. I now know that our lives are the outcomes of the choices that we make. If you keep making bad choices, then you are bound to live a horrible existence. Make the right ones and you’ll have a life ripe for your full enjoyment. I realize that there is a sense of haughtiness to the idea now that I’ve read the words on digital paper. Believe me, I am no better. I have had my fair share of not-so-proud moments. In the end of most of them, I was left to fend for myself. These experiences have shaped who I am today. I love who I am, my incipient misanthropy included for it has served me well in some cases. It taught me to never give out trust right away. Keep your walls up, keep your walls high until you meet people willing to scale them. Because even if they hurt you (unintentionally, of course), they’re worth bleeding for.
I hope to keep choosing to see the light and drink every ray of sunshine in my veins. Easier said than done, I suppose. But if I don’t accept who I was, who I am, and who I become, then who’s going to do it for me?
I will be what I will be.