everyone is doing amazing things: forever wavering on the edge of inspiration and defeat

Everyone is doing amazing things.

Or so it seems. This perception is mostly created through my consumption of social media, though it's also bolstered by conversations, those in which I am a direct participant as well as those I overhear:

She does rigorous workouts or runs everyday. They've been travelling for the past two months with seemingly endless supplies of money. This person's hard work is being nominated for an award. That person just got the job of their dreams. They're doing amazing work in social activism. He just moved into an affordable apartment in an ideal location.  

Whereas I feel like my wheels are spinning, constantly. 

I won't go into an extensive list of all of the areas in which I'm constantly missing the mark. The point of writing this is to explore further the constant conflict that arises inside of me whenever I hear about others' good news. This is the conflict that exists between inspiration and crushing defeat. 

Whenever I hear of someone doing very well, my thoughts automatically turn to a spiral of the following nature: "This person is doing so much better than I am. Why? Because they are working harder than I am. Why? Because they are more disciplined and talented than I am, because I am lazy and I waste time doing meaningless things. They are far more deserving than I am."

Lately, I have tried to train myself into thinking an opposite thought to balance this out: "Don't feel defeated in the face of others' success, be inspired by it. Feel happy for them, because jealously will get you nowhere. The only answer ever is to try harder. Work harder. Be better." 

But in the face of this thought, another echoes back: "I already feel like I'm trying so hard. I need to take care of myself sometimes, and take some time to rest."  

And again, in retaliation: "You are using that as an excuse to be lazy. People don't get ahead by taking breaks. People get ahead by working harder than everyone else."

And so on. The spiral continues, the constant conversation between Inspiration, who wants to kick my ass into working harder, and Defeat, who is unknowingly trying to convince me to lie down and give up on everything. 

I am aware that people present themselves on social media in a manner that accentuates their strong points. But why shouldn't they? Why shouldn't they talk about how well they're doing, all the fun they're having, the success they're experiencing, the life they're living? Even if embellished or carefully selected, these positive moments in the lives of others are real. 

(Further, a side note: This conflict between inspiration and defeat only arises when I am made aware of something that someone has achieved by virtue of earning it. If I hear about someone doing something fun or 'achieving' something noteworthy, and, in my perception, they didn't earn it, I have just one reaction: anger tinged with jealously. I have nothing but contempt for people who preach the joys of 'living the good life' while not acknowledging their own privilege in being able to live such a life in the first place without actually working for it. I acknowledge that this is probably not a healthy reaction.)

I am either not trying hard enough, or being too hard on myself. All of the evidence points to the former. Everyone I know who is doing well does it by the grace of their own willpower and talent, and the work that they are willing to put into what they care about. And privilege may factor into it, but fuck I have so much more privilege than many other people I know who are doing better than I am. What does this say about me?

The kind of life I want to live does not involve working constantly at a job that I hate, or even resent. It involves taking time to have fun and be with the people I want to be with, to have time to explore the world and new experiences, to learn. Is this selfish? Life is so short. I definitely want to work, and understand that it's necessary. In work, I need to contribute to the world that has given me so much. I just want a job wherein I can feel like I'm making a difference, something intrinsically motivating. I know that if I find something like this, work won't feel like torture at all, rather it'll feel like some sort of torch to bear, and bear proudly. 

But what is the likelihood of any of this actually happening? I feel like it's less and less each day. I feel that in this world, in this job market, young people have to break their backs to earn one inch of success. Are we just made to suffer our whole lives, striving to be so fucking busy working at draining jobs that we can't enjoy anything? And then die? It's overwhelmingly sad. How to not be this, to not live that kind of life?

And then, I wonder, is this attitude what is holding me back? Should I just resolve myself to the fact that I'll need to fucking commit to this life of working constantly to experience any measure of success? 

Should I drop everything and just run into the fields and build a cabin in the woods or run away and work in a coffeeshop in Grenada? Should I just leave everything behind and roam city to city playing my guitar for money, not knowing where I'll sleep? 

Will I ever be happy with anything that I have?

And a third voice, arising out of the conflict of the first two, arising out of the jagged edges between inspiration and defeat:

"You're so fucking selfish to want that. Don't you see how lucky you are. You are so fucking selfish. Just shut up and stop whining about your non-problems."

How to proceed in the face of any of this? Of course there is no other option but to proceed. 

And so I spin my wheels. 

anxiety - a free writing experiment

there's a faucet in my chest that doesn't turn off. i called the plumber but he doesn't do house calls. maybe there's a way i can reach inside and turn it off. i've tried for years but i can't find a keyhole, can't find the way in. maybe it's on the back of my neck where i can't see it, maybe someone else could open it up for me, but they always say that you have to do these things for yourself, no shortcuts, no easy way out. maybe i'm stuck with this. maybe it will never go away. what do i do when i start to overflow? there must be an emergency shut-off valve somewhere.

there's something so fleeting about relief, but maybe that's why it's so sweet, they call it sweet relief because it is so fleeting. but where there's no justice there can still be calm and where there are no answers there can still be serenity and acceptance. 

there is a stream of cold water constantly flowing inside of me but cold water feels nice sometimes. could i learn to love this? to lean in to this and live this? like Sisyphus and his rock? is this my boulder to be forever rolled up the incline of my insides? it's always there, like a hunger, like a rainstorm in my guts, but rainstorms although dangerous can be beautiful, like lightning striking wet earth, ozone and petrichor, the smell of simultaneous creation and destruction, lighting strikes inside me, fizzles down my throat and lands in my guts, sets the sea inside me to crackling, sets the ocean ions aflame with untapped energy.

i am a maelstrom. look into my eye and you will see calm but i am on fire on the inside.