Thursday, November 8, 2012

Moving Forward

I hate the feeling of wasted time.

For those of you who know me in real life, I realize you are probably cracking up at what sounds like a big fat fucking lie. If you were to ask any of my friends what my favorite thing in the whole wide world is, they would probably say, "Taylor? She just loves wasting time."

I do. This is true. Gimme a couch and a screen and I will destroy an entire day, and be completely happy about it. I don't feel a single bit of shame when I'm not productive. I don't feel an ounce of guilt when I have nothing to show for a few hours of free time. I can stay in one place quite happily for many, many minutes, amusing myself completely.  My mother is one of those people who just cannot be still, and even on a day she's sick she can't just relax and enjoy the art of the lounge. I, however, love me a sick day, because it's permission to do absolutely nothing.

I love nothing more than nothing. I do believe the definition of this condition is "lazy".


When I say I hate the feeling of wasted time, what I mean is that I hate being in the present moment and feeling like things should be different. As if I'm not where I should be, like my world is just slightly off-center. When I'm sitting at my desk at work, and this choking feeling of helplessness comes over me, I panic and I struggle for breath. Like there's something I've forgotten. Like I've misplaced part of my life.

I look back on the decisions and choices I've made in the last few months, and I get tangled in a web of regret and shame and anxiety. I am frozen in my own guilt. I fixate on things I can't change, obsess over moments I've already lost. It's so hard to push myself forward when I keep dwelling on the past, what could have been, where I would be if I hadn't fallen off track, gone backwards, what might be different.

But that's a big part of my problem, isn't it? I'm living my life as if I'm rushing towards some sort of finish. I'm looking at the destination, not the journey, to appropriate a cliche. I feel like there's a deadline or an expiration date printed on my face and soon time is going to run out and I have to do everything now now now now or I'll be so far behind. And it's hard to put my broken pieces back together with that kind of pressure. When I realize how far I've let myself fall, it's hard not to just crash down the rest of the way.

Why can't I just live my life? I can never just look at a day like it's a normal day---it's always a step towards something else in my mind. I have a very hard time just living in the moment. I keep saying I want this to be a lifestyle change, not a diet, I want to just exist in this healthy space, and yet I act as if there's some sort of end in sight, like there's something to race towards. And it's not just my eating and exercising, even when I consider my job, my relationships, my happiness, I hear a ticking clock pounding in my brain. I feel time rushing past me. I see myself letting life slip away.

No wonder I'm such a mess half the time.

I want to just be. Find a way to live every day, beginning to end, as if it is a single entity. Not worrying about the mistakes I made yesterday or last week or last month, not obsessing over what I need to do tomorrow or in the rest of my life. Wake up in the morning, go to bed at night, and fill the in between moments with the things that make me happy, the things that build the foundation of a healthy life. Not ascribing meaning to every little thing, projecting what it might do for me or what it's making up for.

Not worrying so much about what I should be doing that I end up doing nothing.

Living in the moment, that definitely sounds like a much nicer way to be. It seems so simple I'm sure, but for me, it's harder than you'd think.

Or maybe I'm just pathologically lazy. 

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