I’m not liking this person I’m becoming. While I’ve grown to accept some things I cannot change and learned not to expect anything from anybody, I’ve become more intolerant of injustices and vindictive to those who have done irreparable damage to me in the past. I still believe I’m hardwired to do the right and the good, though.
The rain has brought an unexpected calm in me that is just as frightening as the storm signal warning in the city. I’m almost always anxious, no, restless, and this calmness seems so foreign yet so comfortable. It almost feels like surrender. Surrender is bad because that means I’m about to settle for something less than I have bargained for.
I go to work an hour and a half early in the midst of a torrential downpour and the only thing that bothers me is the fact that my feet may still get wet even though I’m wearing high-cut boots. I’m usually more uneasy when it rains–this dates back to my infant years. I go to work and relapse into my unhealthy habit of consuming a 60-gram pack of chips in one-sitting on my 15-minute break. I’ve gone months without eating chips and knowing that this craving is creeping back into my system tells me that there is a problem. I go home and the darkness of the evening keeps the calm intact. I go to sleep expecting nothing but the numbing calmness that tomorrow would bring. Not sure if not dreading it sounds like a good thing.
It’s a vicious cycle… but there are things to look forward to. I’ve just celebrated 23 years of living in this spinning rock and I’m holding on to the belief that better days are coming.