It no longer matters whether this pressure is real or imagined— the fact is, either way I still crumble.
I don’t get it. Real life is all the time, and yet we parcel it into sections and assign importance and weight at different levels to different things. I know it’s a facet of the human mind to do this, and we don’t perceive time as it really is, just as we don’t really perceive ANYTHING as entirely veridical (although you can argue that our perception necessarily is veridical because that’s all we know, oh shit okay keep going), BUT this is a little more specific to our day and age, and I can’t handle it.
Anything and everything I do is part of life. The moments I spend preparing for something are the same length as the moments I have doing whatever I have prepared to do. So shouldn’t I just maximize the amount of moments I enjoy? Isn’t that the point of everything?
It is to me.
So right now, I am sitting here shaking, because this pressure acts like caffeine in my veins and keeps me up at night, catatonically, unable to channel it into productivity but also unable to TURN OFF when I just need SLEEP or REST or SOMETHING.
So, now, I feel guilty when I’m having fun, I feel trapped and angry when I’m not, and I notice this and question whether any of these emotions are valid at all.
Something is wrong and it sucks.