Lost.

I tell myself to take it one sentence at a time but why is it so hard? Have I lost all inspiration to write, to create, to inspire? Slowly I’m beginning to lose my self-confidence through my writing. I haven’t been blogging since last November. Are my creative juices finally running out for good?

I feel unnecessary sometimes. I want to create things that can inspire people, things that say “hey listen up.”, but is this wish too unrealistic? I’m a big advocate of chasing dreams, no matter how big or small, and sometimes I wish I could listen to the self that’s encouraging and not the voice that’s doubting every action I take. I want to create change but how does one do that without being the change?

Up until very recently I’ve been cutting out bad energy from my life. Friends I no longer speak to, people I don’t want to know anymore and I have isolated myself in a circle of positivity. Initially it felt empowering. I was in control of what made me happy and I was aware of the things that didn’t. I made a conscious effort to improve myself. I went to the gym. I adopted a vegan lifestyle. I stopped looking in the mirror as often and I resisted urges to take tons of selfies just to justify my existence in our superficial world. I was a very happy person. But now I’ve hit a bump. And I know I will overcome it at some point, but right now I’m stuck.

After cutting out all the badness in my life, there was space for new things. I found joys in cooking and exercising, and I felt more fulfilled. But the thing is, in taking away certain things, my life feels empty. Emptiness isn’t necessarily a bad thing in my opinion. I see it as space that needs filling, a dent in the ground that doesn’t disrupt the perfect surface but a hole to plant a new seed. I’m just trying to figure out what this empty space needs. It’s taking a while and I’m running out of patience.

I want to change but I don’t know what I want to change anymore. A video of Obama talking to a group of interns inspired me to question what I want to do in my life. He said it wasn’t about who you wanted to be but rather what you wanted to accomplish. I used to know but now I don’t. I want to know what went wrong along the way and why I’m feeling uncertain. What is causing my lack of motivation these past few months? Have I been too obsessed in improving myself that I’m losing track of who I am?

In a lecture recently I learned that new beginnings are not only a time of exciting opportunities but it’s also a time of fear and anxiety. Perhaps, somewhere unconsciously, I’m scared of this new version of me that I’m desperately trying to be. What if I don’t like myself again? What if I improve when I’m actually hating myself more? Will I ever be able to like me a hundred percent? Sometimes I do wonder if Beyoncé wakes up and decides that she isn’t “feeling herself” and then goes back to bed.

It’s week 2 and I’ve skipped two lectures already. As I’m writing this, I’m wallowing in guilt. I didn’t go because I had no reason to. I have no fresh ideas for my script and I have given up on writing. I’m not good and I will never be good so what’s the point of even trying. I wish I could rewind and go back to the time where I made this stupid life-changing decision. I should have waited until I knew myself well enough. If only some stranger had stopped me on the streets and said “don’t do it” then I would have listened because that is how naïve I am.

My mom told me a few days ago that in the five weeks that I have spent back home she was very pleased to see who I have become. She was proud, which made me happy.

I say that because it seemed appropriate. Happiness is a social construct. We are told to feel happy when certain things happen. We are told to feel disappointed when life isn’t all cut out like our imagination. What if emotions are just feelings we’re taught to learn? What if they aren’t actually genuine? What if? What if? What if?

So many questions but only a lifelong of living to find the answers. I know I’m not living when I don’t care what those answers are. I know I’m just going about my day through habit when I’m not concerned about asking those questions.

I feel that living is active. So instead of thinking I should be doing. Maybe the cure to this state of confusion is to get out of my own head and live in this present world. What use is fantasising about a life I can’t have especially when I’m not doing anything to achieve it.

I’m going to stop writing now. I have ranted enough. It’s time to wake up.