Point Of No Return

26 May

Some days are easy and breezy. Some days are challenging. Some days are exceptionally challenging. Today feels like the point of no return kind. Mostly mood-swing driven and partially I just don’t give a rat’s ass anymore powered, today’s that sort of day which I knew began with a black cloud clinging to it like there was no tomorrow. I tried procrastinating the beginning of today by lingering in bed longer than usual, but that wasn’t to be because my body had had its share of rest and sleep, and any more of it would result in a headache which I really didn’t want to add to my plate.

I’d like to believe that there’s a side of me, despite my obvious and very visible signs of cynicism, which also harbours a good measure of hope, positivity and motivation. Irrespective of my always thinking of the negatives, and much to my initial denial and eventual ignorance, I think I’m also capable of looking out for goodness, brightness and rainbows in general. I’ve been told that I’m a positive person, much to my surprise and the wounded ego of my cynicism. And when I look within, there are results to show the same. Writing this, in itself, makes me feel a little more positive and better, a little more empowered to blow that dense black cloud away.

Today feels like an I don’t want to give a f*** about anything anymore chapter. It makes me want to put my feet up and really not give a shit. It’s something I find very hard to do because the guilt that follows for not having done anything productive in this time I’ve been so generously provided with is insurmountable. The accusatory tones my mind takes upon its own self just because things are taking time and I’m basically feeling pretty directionless is stressful. I’m done chiding myself for not doing enough, whatever this enough is supposed to mean.

It’s a very conscious choice also deeply rooted in my upbringing that prevents me from sitting in front of the television or just sleeping my time away. It’s not a done thing, it never was. To sit idle was never encouraged. To do nothing was not an option. The frustration then in picking myself up after repeatedly bashing myself down has been going on for a while now. An idle mind is a mindfuck you just don’t want to be in.

Housekeeping is not the result of a magical wand’s instant swipe. But somehow that doesn’t seem validating enough because it’s a done thing, right? You can’t possibly live in filth anyway for it to be a big deal, right? Isn’t that the mental setup we give housekeeping anyway? It is a thankless, invisible job. It is a broken record that neither refuses to stop talking, nor start screaming and getting things done like they should be done. It is more than a task but is considered like it’s nothing at all. I’m not against housekeeping because I love having the chance to keep my house the way I want to keep it. It’s a matter of great pride to me and gives me an immense sense of satisfaction and responsibility. I just wish I was paid for it.

It’s hard to understand what my mind thinks and how to find a way to control the way it thinks, because seriously, this is some mad stuff. Today, I just don’t care. I don’t want to care any more. I don’t want to live in the fear of a very challenging tomorrow that promises to bring me my cross to bear. I just don’t want to be afraid of tomorrow just because today doesn’t live up to securing it.

I’ve broken my routine, had more cups of tea than my controlling self would allow and I’m going to allow myself that space to do whatever it is that I want to. If today’s when I want to feel like a failure, then so be it. If it calls for celebration, then so be it. And if it calls for guilt, then so be it. I’ve learnt that if you cannot be good enough for your own self, there’s no way you can be good enough for anyone else, or even expect to be. I cannot be exceptional or controlled or good enough or not suitable enough every single day. Even if I am, today’s one day less that the registers of my conscience will work.

I’m done fighting for today.


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