Whirlpool of Nerves

Have you ever heard anyone who just got a job offer and watched a good movie, and then suddenly was suffocating out of anxiety?

Well, probably you have. I was just trying to make a dramatic entrance, but, of course, I fail because it’s too annoyingly typical.

That aside, yes, I did just accept an internship offer. Not only that, I managed to wake up early in the morning for the interview without snoozing the alarm, and that is the biggest achievement of all. I posted something earlier this evening, and went to the movies and dinner with a friend. Another unbelievable achievement, I was struggling not to fall asleep on the bus going home earlier, and it was just 10 am. I am quite close to dozing off as I write this, too, but I really want to let this one out, hoping the therapeutic magic still works somehow.

As was indicated above, I was not nervous on my way to the interview there, because really I got nothing to lose. I was not as agitated about the idea of an internship or any job offer anymore because I realized I had a ridiculously short amount of time to finish my thesis, so I really did not have the pressing need to get one anymore. Nor was I thrilled when I did. Rather, I was pondering that this happened too many a time to me–those moments when I actually want or like something and don’t get it, but got something I had no expectations of getting whatsoever. Anyways, I’m thankful, but kind of scared because I don’t want to mess with the work nor my thesis and schoolwork. But that didn’t really trigger the maelstrom of despair.

Earlier when I was having a nice dinner of Japanese food with my friend, she pointed out how today has been quite productive but most of all fun for the both of us. That was when my head spun and some flashes of thoughts somehow filled my lungs, making it hard for oxygen intake. I was succumbed to think of how today seem to be going so well that nothing could go wrong, that I might not have any days like this in the future because the semester is starting in less than five days, that I am now going to properly work for 3 days a week, have one class and work on my thesis, and that most likely all hell will break loose once this weekend is over. I started questioning myself if I really deserve a proper holiday break, and by that I mean doing literally nothing academic but only worrying about it, while being a prat writing this blog, shoving weird, terrible stories down people’s brains and mostly ranting about stuff people in real life dismiss as being whiny and lazying around (bloody, typical millennials). And now I moronically expect myself to be able to function as a proper adult and student? What the hell was I thinking? That was when I stab my temples with a pair of chopsticks each.

N’ah, I was too shellshocked out of my own masochistic decisions and paralyzing gloomy speculations of the near future I just morosely stared at the menu. If you ask me, I still prefer this over the stabbing part–I’m about as violent as a dead predator.

But it is still traumatizing nonetheless that I need a moment to recollect my thoughts as well as regulate my breath. Thankfully enough my friend was there to help calm me down a bit, and our orders were served, so I naturally get distracted… only to get overwhelmed in intervals afterwards.

Willing the restlessness and mild hyperventilation to stop, I resorted to writing this down. Phew. Oh, no, it’s still there, lurking deep in the void of my chest; waiting for me to lie on my bed, only to be wide awake all night instead. Okay, I’ll just sleep on my desk tonight.

I should have learnt a thing or two about uncertainty and randomness in life–that, yes, a day may went well, but there are also some other days when I will probably make mistakes, embarrass myself in public, be scarred of the experience and have not thicker skin to acknowledge and let go of it (as it always comes back to me despite my efforts to repress them only to make myself shiver in disgust). But I apparently don’t, with all this distressing expectations tormenting my already damaged self-esteem. I don’t even know if it’s just in my head because they say your imaginations may also come to life.

Seriously, reality, make up your goddamn mind! Do you want to be actually real, or a manifested fickle of one’s expectations?

I’ll take my chances getting twenty winks rather than wait for that question to be answered.

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