As one chapter of my life draws to a bitter end, it’s time to look ahead to new marvels and possibilities behind any door I choose; a chance to re-write who I am. A life previously built around the ‘norm’ with no consideration to any form of originality. I wanted to get an education, a degree, a job to pay the bills and support the people around me. But what if that wasn’t what I wanted? What if that was what I thought I had to want? To be like everyone else, to follow the same path as your family before you, in a subconscious attempt to make them proud.
A race to make the most money you can; a race to early retirement, savings and a trust fund for your children. But where does that leave you mentally? Is that your passion in life – to be… boring? I mean, the fundamentals are perfectly understandable – to make your family proud and supply for your future family – but just think: when you are on your death bed, alone with your final thoughts before your passing, did you follow your passion? Were you the happiest you possibly could’ve been? If not, what do you regret? I know, the constant dribble and rhetorical questions are getting monotonous, but my point is rather simple. As I turn my back on what was a ‘normal’ life of university and future aspirations of £50k salary sat behind a desk, I begin to question myself as to how I can live my life, in the way I truly want to. I want to write; to pour all of the fucked up shit of my past onto a page and twist it and turn it into a story of heartbreak, lust and dreams. I want to meet new people. All my life I’ve been confided to the friendships and relationships of the ones most convenient. I do love the people around me today, but what if they aren’t the people I would love the most? What if my REAL best friend is sat reading this in a coffee shop in New York whilst just starting off their day? What if my REAL soul mate is sunbathing on a beach in Sorento, Italy, after a hard days work? The thing is, I don’t know, but I’m not going to find out unless I travel the world and meet who I want to meet.
With the wild dreams and ambitions running around my head of travel and new people and a life dedicated to the arts, you would think that my inner anxiety would be clawing me back into the pit I’ve spent my whole life. But it isn’t. For once in my life doing new things and meeting people isn’t scaring the shit of me. Instead of being anxious about how I look, I’m excited to brave a new lease of life. I’m not trying to boast to the millions of sufferers out there today, that truly is not my intention. My intention is to make everybody aware that maybe one way to reduce our anxious traits are to get ourselves out of the situation we have been in for years. Maybe it is change – the thing we fear most – that is our biggest cure. I’m sure that I’m not going to feel like this forever, that the repressed mental health issues with come back with vengeance, but for now i’m living free.
It’s time to write. It’s time to meet new people. It’s time to be me, but slightly better.
If you feel like you’re stuck in a loop, going round and round like a tumble dryer full of negativity, join me. Make that change. Take that leap of faith, chase your dreams and live with no regrets. I promise, it’s fucking liberating.