A deep, sinking feeling.
In these recent weeks, I have been dwelling deep in a very warm, moist, dank and uncomfortable cave of dissatisfaction. The soles of my feet have become prunes for having been soaked in what seems like a never ending flow of sweat and tears. I have to wriggle my toes to remind myself that blood is still circulating within me, coursing through my veins, keeping me alive, keeping my will to live alive.
I am dissatisfied with my work. I feel stifled. I want to get out. I can do more. I know I deserve more. I am a first-born. I’m an over-achiever. But I am suddenly claustrophobic in a work environment where I am being piled with information but I have no room for expansion. A wise career move would be to climb up a ladder. Instead, I am carrying that ladder on my shoulder like a burden and moving around, searching for a wall for me to lean on. It’s frustrating, overwhelming, and it’s eating me up inside.
I am dissatisfied with my blog. Unbeknownst to all of you, I come home every night, log into my blogger account, and stare long and hard at my blog. I have so much to say, but the words are not forming. I tell myself that it is because I am tired, and I already spend all day at work staring at the computer trying to form sentences, that it would be the last thing I want to do when I’m at home. But it’s merely an excuse, an easy way out for myself. Who am I kidding? I love words. My love for words was the reason why I started this blog, the reason why I thought I had found my dream job as a wordsmith, the reason why I fell in love with my man. Because of my job, I no longer have confidence in myself. My words scare me. I am afraid to blog.
I am dissatisfied with my relationships. I am a good person. I love. I hate. I feel. I hurt. But I am bad at managing those emotions. In my rather turbulent journey of love, I’ve found that fear is the greatest evil of them all. I fear, therefore I hold back. I fear, therefore my imagination runs wild. I fear, therefore I make wrong moves. I fear, therefore I might lose it all. But that is exactly what I fear. How do I resolve this? I want to love. I am capable of good love. I am surrounded by good love. If only I am removed from this persistent cloud of fear that floats over me as I lay in bed, confronted by ghosts of memories past.
I am dissatisfied with my life. I want my own house. I want two cats. I want to go to bed next to my man and be woken up by his kisses every morning. I want my parents to stop giving me disapproving looks. I want to be free of their clutches. I want to break loose from the invisible moral hold they have over me. I want to own everything I possess. And I want them all now, Now, NOW.
But I am deeply, deeply dissatisfied with everything right now.
And that sucks ass.