It’s always circular, these funks. But this recent orbit has taken longer than before, maybe that is why this dip back into depression has taken me by surprise. The wretched insecurity has been hiding in the tension gathered at the base of my neck, between my shoulders and in my hips. It is all too rare that I marvel at how far I have come, but simultaneously I feel so heartbroken that there is still where I go when I have nowhere left. I go through waves of pride at my perseverance but the more I learn about the world and all of its complexities, I feel ashamed at how I have over-decorated my heartache. But the one thing that is lurking at the back of my mind is how maybe I am assimilating to those around me, it frightens me more than anything. The thought of being boring absolutely petrifies me. I feel like I am disappearing but not how I ever imagined that I would. As I grow older, the more people I meet and stories I hear, I realise how unimpressive I am. Is the answer to accept that fact or to try and change it? The problem right now is that what I want doesn’t align with what I think I should want, so there is always this underlying sense of guilt accompanying me wherever I go and this apologetic feeling for existing and being the way that I am. I’m sorry that I am too quiet, too brash, too dull, too particular. If you could only see inside my head, if you knew how hard I try every single day – I promise I wish I wasn’t this way. How do I stop feeling like I am deceiving the world about the kind of person I truly am?
