That For Which We Anxiously Await

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I’ve started caring too much about the things I can’t control and caring too little about the things I can. It’s an unhealthy rut that anybody who hasn’t gotten into in their lifetimes probably deserves to just to make the ground a bit more even between the lucky and the not.

It’s why I’ve had more darker strokes of depression, why work has been getting to me so much, why I’ve freaked out at non-issues, and why I’ve been taking my mistakes harder than the far greater sum of everything I get right. These are common to everyone, but to me probably a bit more than average. It’s still generally manageable, though, or it was while I felt empowered and in control over my own actions and decisions like diet and exercise and how I spent my free time and what thoughts I willfully banished from my head. I felt good about what I could do, and that made all the things I couldn’t do easier to roll off my shoulders. That’s not so much the case.

There are significant things that are out of my hands right now. These will take time. I should be occupying myself by maintaining the same healthy attitude I had beforehand in my day-to-day life. But naturally I’m not, because naturally I think I can’t, and I’m taking other things beyond my control – well, “personally” isn’t quite the word, but “agitatedly” might better work. The differences between me and other people that I should respect out of everyone’s right to exist aren’t quite as easy to handle close up when I’ve steered off course of a regimen of mental health. The fates that await me as a function of society at large – the things that are at the core of why I’m especially askew and sensitive – will take their time, on their own schedule. You would think this is an excellent time to take further control of all the things that are my choice. But I can’t function that well. I don’t think many of us can.

So spend your precious waking hours pacing back and forth, testing other people’s patience through incessant complaints, or internalize everything and hide it until you explode. Well, I should say don’t do that – I’m not giving that as advice. I just know what it’s what most of us are going to do anyway.

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