Losing Hope

Sometimes it’s as if my mind is another person, fighting against me, tearing me down, like it’s an enemy out to get me. It says mean things to me, things that no sane person would ever say, but it doesn’t care.

But other times my mind can be my best friend. Sitting comfortably in silence. No words need to be said. The friendship carries on regardless of conversation.

These two extremes go back and forth. Like a seesaw. The balance is hard to achieve. Almost impossible. 

In the middle, conversation flows freely. It’s effortless. Maybe the balance is what we must achieve with our own minds.

I can’t be the only one.

The only one that struggles with a lack of balance. My whole life is about figuring out how much weight to put on each side. The criticism of one side can so easily turn into self loathing.  But the love of the opposing side of the spectrum borders on narcissism. 

I’ve spent far too much time in my life figuring out how to experience it alone comfortably. Maybe this is the most important challenge we must face as human beings. How do we face ourselves? How do we become comfortable with the endless depth of our own minds?

As quarantine carries on indefinitely my mind is forced to handle this dilemma head-on. 

But I wake up each day and I don’t know which challenges I will face in the upcoming hours. The seesaw teeters from side to side. I try to balance the weight as evenly as possible.

I stare at my computer screen, wondering when this will end. I read yet another book, wondering what the point is.

“Am I getting anything out of this?”  I ponder. But I don’t think that it would make any difference whether or not we were quarantined.

The questions I face during normal life (whatever that means at this point) rage on during this abnormal period. But really, who knows what normal is anymore? 

My mental health doesn’t care about the state of the world. I need to learn how to face myself in light of corona or whatever messed up shit is happening around me. Nothing is “normal.” Life isn’t really meant to be normal or stay constant. Everything is always changing. Everything is always challenging. And then we die.

Maybe that’s morbid, but it’s true. 

Quarantine will end eventually and maybe the world will go back to how it was before. Maybe it will change. Who knows, really? And then another few years will pass and some other crazy thing will happen, changing everything we know, challenging the world yet again. 

All we can do right now is figure out how to balance our minds in light of uncertainty. 

Maybe this is an opportunity to be better. To become comfortable with ourselves. To find balance. 

But I’m afraid of the dark. I don’t know what’s lurking in the shadows. I’m scared of what I cannot see. This is the same as corona. It’s left the world in a state of chaos and economic uncertainty. I don’t know what will happen next, and the darkness puts me in a state of unease. 

As generations of the past had to face world wars and unnecessary death, each individual grew as result of their experiences. Now is our time to face an important historical moment in our own lives. 

Years from now, history books will detail how this virus changed the world. Most likely they will discuss the ineptitude of certain countries and world leaders, but neglect to delve deeper into how it has impacted people on an individual basis. 

But the experience of an individual is important, no matter how little weight we put on it. Some of us will break while others grow stronger. Then life goes on. But what can we do? 

Many people in the US are choosing to protest social distancing right now. I mean, I get it to some degree.

Besides the ridiculousness of putting yourself in a position where you’re surrounded by hundreds (or maybe even thousands) of individuals who potentially have a virus that could kill you, I can’t help but empathize with those who want this to end.

Who doesn’t want this to end? This time is horrible.

I feel anger and sadness and a whole range of emotions that I probably can’t even identify with words, and I want to direct that anger at something. I want to rage and go back to living life normally. I need a haircut and there’s nothing I want more than to go to a wild party. Who doesn’t? 

But, there’s no point in vilifying people who have chosen to protest. Obviously their actions are stupid and they are probably causing quarantine to go on for far longer than it should. However, no amount of angry facebook posts will persuade these people to go home. Nothing we say will actually make this virus go away. 

I don’t have the energy to be angry at them anymore. I don’t have the energy to be sad anymore. I feel empty. It doesn’t matter how I feel because the actions of people around me will always have an impact on my life, and no matter how much I may disagree with what they’re doing, there’s not much I can personally do to alleviate the problem.

So I just sit here, in my irrelevant little house in Pennsylvania and write 500 word blog posts that are probably read by like 6 people, and watch as the energy leaves my body, and each day my motivation is a bit less than the day before.