She sat listening to the clock ticking on the wall, wondering why she was putting off the inevitable. It seemed her whole life she suffered from these spells of inertia. Oftentimes they would be followed by great spurts of energy, but it was always difficult to predict the schedule.
It drove her insane some days.
People thought of her as someone other than what she was, or what she felt she was. They looked to her for guidance, for support. She was thought to be confident and bright. She was. Sometimes. But much of the time, she felt like a frightened child who hadn’t the slightest idea of what to do with herself.
It was as if she was given the book of life, read it cover to cover, memorized it, shared it with someone else, figured things out for a period of time, then promptly forgot everything she just learned.
It was starting from ground zero over and over.
How many times would she have to burn it all to the ground?
How many times would she have to be unmade before she became whole?
“The process of growing is incredibly painful,” she thought to herself as she sat in her home staring at the wall as she often did when she was in that frame of mind.
“I really need to get moving,” she thought, still sitting perfectly motionless.
“Eventually…” said another voice in her head. This voice was very soothing. It often spoke to her of the easier road. After years of listening to it, she determined that, to put it frankly, that voice was full of shit.
Suddenly she roused herself out of her reverie, pushing her chair back from the table and standing up rapidly. She ran her fingers through her hair which was frizzy and knotted from a night of restless tossing and turning. “Just keep moving,” said the voice she listened to these days.
She had a big project due for work. Somehow Liza had found herself working at a non-profit. It was something that had always interested her, but seemed completely out of reach. It still seemed completely out of reach some days. Her mind was a hell of a thing to deal with at times. Constantly filled with self-doubt even when the world around her was telling her she was worthy.
Long ago she had realized she could not rely on outer approval to fix her deeply rooted insecurities. Years of seeking meaning in her life had improved this, but it was still something that plagued her often.
Mechanically she turned the knob on the shower to just the right ratio of hot to cold water and stepped into the stream, barely aware of the actions she was taking, completely consumed with the thoughts of what she would have to accomplish in the day ahead.
Of course, her thoughts were often waylaid by various worries and fears that threatened to cause her to careen completely off course, but she kept on the right track as best she could.
“Sometimes that’s all we can do,” she thought to herself absentmindedly. Then realized, she was thinking about what she was thinking about rather than thinking about what she needed to be actually thinking about. What a circus.
After she got out of the shower, she stood naked in front of the bathroom mirror. She used to detest her body, see every flaw from every angle. These days she had learned to view it less as an ornament and more as a tool. A vehicle for her soul.
Where could she go today? Whom could she help?
That was on a good day, of which there were many.
This morning the negative side of her mind was gaining influence. As she felt the familiar pang of self-loathing begin to choke her spirit, she closed her eyes and breathed deeply, reminding herself of the truth of life.
Random Thoughts from a Meandering Mind 