Fears

Every single night is the same story; the entire day goes by great, and then suddenly, as the darkness becomes more evident than before, the mind begins to bring back the darkness in its thoughts. I always liked being awake at night; it was calm and quiet with no one else really around. Yet now it is beginning to feel lonely and never-ending. I thought I could easily take on the pressure of my future, but maybe it will be a little harder than I thought. In these moments of pressure and angst, I always see one figure in my mind, and sometimes that figure talks back to me too. You know exactly who it is.

The figure I see in my mind is the same figure that I see in the mirror, just a little different. This figure in my mind is a bit calmer, doesn’t raise his voice ever, and always has a look of neutrality in his eyes. Yet there is one problem: he has one common trait with me: he too is impatient. So at night, when I see him impatient, I too get impatient. So my mind is continuously refeeding the uncertainty and impatience with itself. Which is helpful and not helpful at the same time. It both helps me fall asleep and wakes me up in the middle of the night.

So I spoke to this figure last night, and I asked him when I would be able to say that it was worth it. He said to me that it will never just be worth it—only more than I expect or nothing at all. I did not understand what this meant, but I pretended to understand what he was saying. It was as if it were the most profound thing ever. I do that a lot when I listen to my own thoughts, simply letting them be in their most out-of-this-world form without trying to rationalize them and make them much smaller than what they are. I think that is much better than reducing them.

I wish I could let my thoughts at night also just be in their extreme and wild form without having to think of them so much; maybe then they would end up staying like dreams and would not turn into my fears. Maybe I just needed to let go to get a better hold of them.