Random Thoughts

Dear diary

Dear diary,
Isn't it strange that I feel like a writer because I just hold my pen to write my thoughts? I'm not like an old writer but just like myself. It's hard to fill up the hours of my day to avoid my heart and the running thoughts in my head. Then I lost my mind to anxiety or sadness maybe. I didn't know what was happening but I was trying too much. I just kept pushing myself to the limits and what happened next we can call it a nervous breakdown. So today is different. I felt like I'm flying steadily and my running thoughts are like fluid, they are easily slipped through my throat. I have so much to say. I spent a while seeming normal but I wasn't able to express my thoughts. But today I'm ready to solve it with a pen and paper. I gained enough energy to do this.

Is it anxiety that was driving me to feel like this? I can't deny it, the most thing I'm worried about now is the future. Grades, university who will I be? Those thoughts have been driving me to craziness. Corona and the lockdown have given us a lot of free time and an empty mind. Maybe it is about being a teenager. I'm not a child yet an adult.  I didn't know a way to handle all these thoughts in the last whole period. I kept myself busy with school work and sometimes reading. Anxiety isn't crying off your mascara or not eating or not wanting to talk with people. Sometimes anxiety is eating everything and being around people for 24 hours. Anxiety is feeling stressed, unhappy and it's like seeing the whole world naked like nothing is worth keeping you alive. And every time I was about to fall, I always reminded myself that I can do more. But then I thought again, it's really about the moments we lived in. I was always afraid that one day I'm expected to live up my life to others' expectations. I lived in moments where if we said the wrong answer we get laughed at. I lived in moments where I heard people are saying "you have to eat less or more". So I realized that life is nothing but moments and those moments you decide how you will spend it and with who.

I took a deep breath, and then my anxiety led me to time. Time is an opportunity and I've been told it can pass in a blink of an eye. Yesterday, while I was in English class surrounded by people that one day I will never get the chance to meet again. Then what if pressing a play button can change the time and give me the chance to run out of the reality that I locked myself into for so long. What if life was actually death? And when we die we are truly alive? What if all the things I felt were tangible were actually figments of my imagination? Wouldn't that make more sense? I always wished to find a place where I can be child enough to live and strong enough to survive. I was always afraid of leaving things behind. I was afraid of life and maybe this was creating those running thoughts that caused me sadness and anxiety. I don't want my life to be written by others or a painting I won't finish. One day I will be working on my own words, or I will let my brush dance freely on my canvas. Maybe it will be tomorrow or after tomorrow.