As a creative writer, I feel that I have always been a bit of a deep, delicate soul who perhaps looks into things a bit too deeply. Okay, not perhaps, I literally dive in head first, at the deep end, with bricks tied to me.
Maybe its because I’m approaching a quarter life crisis (it’s my birthday next week, and I am totally open to any gifts/ donations/ free holidays etc.) or maybe it’s just the way the world is going, but bloody hell, lately I have found myself entirely uninspired, lost and staring into my phone screen at 2am, not sure if my eyes are stinging from tiredness or out of sheer upset from the fact that I will never look like Sofia bloody Jamora. (If you haven’t already seen this goddess, don’t search her, it hurts too badly.)
AND IT’S PATHETIC.
I feel like I’m going slightly mad – surely there’s more to life than gratification on the internet? What happened to actual human interaction? Surely there’s more to life than the same old commute, with the same old faces, and the same songs on the radio? Am I alone in my despair here?
I literally drove to and from work yesterday in complete autopilot mode, and what tipped me over the edge to the point of an actual laugh out loud to myself is that in the moment I actually came into consciousness again on the drive home THE SAME SONG was playing on the radio as the drive to work, and it was asif the entire day hadn’t existed, as if I hadn’t really achieved anything.
Maybe it’s the job making me unhappy, maybe its the routine, but I came home and asked my Dad, ‘how the hell have you done it for the last 30-odd years? The same place, every day, the same people? The same drive to work? How haven’t you gone mad?’ And don’t get me wrong, I have HELLA respect for that, my Dad did so because he had a family to support and clearly I don’t get my wild-irrational-impulsive ways from him.
I am fully aware of how awful and ungrateful this is going to sound, but when I woke up this morning, my alarm went off, I looked at the ceiling, realised where I was and thought ‘what the f*ck is my point in getting out of bed today?” And I see now, why I thought that, it’s because I know exactly what is going to happen. I get up, have breakfast, go to work, drink 600ml of water every hour, write hotel profiles, drive home, walk my Grandad’s dog at around 6.15pm and then either sit staring at instagram all night, or facetime my boyfriend who is 200 miles away. I know, I have nothing to be complaining about – I am (relatively)fit, healthy, have all limbs, no webbed feet, real teeth and a solid support system of the most amazing human beings – I even try to write down one thing each day that I am grateful for, but I still feel this horrible weight around my neck, that I am totally unfulfilled.
When you’re next at a restaurant, or on your commute, or literally anywhere, take a look around you. How many people are actually talking? I bet you an actual bar of gold that the majority of people surrounding you will be glued to their phones, not talking, faces an emotionless blur into the next. If I happen to be one of those people near you, kinda weird and stop following me please, but I can assure you I’ll be looking at them in despair. That’s right, I am that annoying human being who catches your eye and makes conversation on public transport.
DISCLAIMER: I don’t possess a bar of gold, or anything equal to that amount, please don’t hold me to that bet.
Routine is DEADLY. I’m drained, fed up and wondering what the hell the point in life is if I’m just going to feel this way. On numerous occasions I have sat there and thought ‘shit, is this it? Is everyone thinking this or are other people happy? HOW do I get a grip of myself here? I have no real reason to be unhappy! Should I just sell the van and disappear? How difficult is it really to fake your own death?’ (You might think I’m joking, but I’ll happily send you a screenshot of my recent google searches….)
Aside from asking someone to physically slap me around the face (luckily my friends and family actually like me) I’m not sure what the hell I’m supposed to do – I regularly remind myself that this is only temporary, this is a means to an end for the time being, I’m doing a LOT of saving currently, for the road trip and even more exciting things beyond that BUT, the interim just feels like this huge void/black hole/ depressing vortex that I can’t seem to snap out of.
Technology has a lot to answer for, I believe, if it wasn’t for my absolute obsession with instagram, I probably wouldn’t feel so unfulfilled and ‘boring’ (and admittedly, ugly!) It is difficult to say that instagram isn’t ‘real life’ because for some very fortunate or hard-working souls out there, it is real life. Sofia Jamora is blessed with INSANE genes and is a talented model, Jack Morris is a hugely creative guy with an eye for an amazing campaign, Tammy Hembrow works THE HELL out and there’s absolutely no reason I can’t be amazing in my own right, for my own reasons. But to do that, I need to stop comparing my life to everyone else’s, because my life is never going to be exactly like theirs. Everyone does only choose the best angles, lighting and moments for instagram anyway, we are all weapons of our own self destruction here. (yaaay, go human race!)
I would LOVE nothing more than to completely shun social media and go without. I went without facebook, snapchat and twitter for the entirely of high school and sixth form and I was genuinely happier, so why can’t I do it now? Why are we so hooked on seeing what other people are doing? I seriously have no idea, someone please fill me in if you manage to crack this one. In the meantime, I’ll be here, trying not to curse at the ceiling everytime my alarm goes off, and ignoring the fact that I am creeping into my 20s without a clue what I’m actually doing. Happy bloody birthday to me….