I’m scared too
This piece is borne out of extensive conversations I’ve had with my friends in the past few months.
I must write this for every one of you. I am doing it in the dark because I want to be focused. We might all die soon, and I would probably not rest in peace if you do not see it before I die (Just kidding, I will. Lol).
If you get to read this, it simply means that I captured few things that scare you — and I did it perfectly. Imperfection pisses me off, yunno?
Oh, don’t read further if you’re looking for how to conquer those fears. I have no idea as well. After all, I’m built like you — cowering and Living in Fear.
I
As children, the question parents and adults often asked us was, “What do you want to be when you grow up?”. My answer was always simple: I wanted to become a chartered accountant and nothing more. That’s all I ever dreamed of, all I wanted to become.
However, I could draw — like, really well. But it never occurred to me (and you, to be honest) that perhaps there was space to become an accountant and an artist or a doctor and a literary critic. Even when I went on and decided that I wanted to be a Food Scientist (it’s been a wild ride, lol), it still never occurred to me that I could be a Food Scientist and a writer since I had started writing at that time.
We never thought that we were capable of becoming more, and nobody ever told us that we could become every other thing simultaneously. Since the year started, I’ve thought about it and concluded that the adults were shielding us from life. After all, it was probably too early to nurse the idea that we could be more than one thing, then go ahead to put in all the work and chase all of those things. After all, you can see that it is pretty tough ouchea, can’t you?
For a small percentage of us, January came with the conviction that being creative is perhaps one of the most significant burdens to carry around. I probably share this sentiment because, at 21, I still have nothing figured out for myself. Or maybe I think this way because I’m not sure that I’m wired to do so many things regardless of how much work I can bring myself to put in.
Since the new year started, I have felt the need to make up for the year I think I lost. Ohhhh, January came with so much productivity promptly accompanied by intense burn-out. We all had just figured out what to do with our year, bursting with enthusiasm and optimism as we wrote out our goals and plans in a new journal we purchased in December. Trust me, no judgment. Of course, the world was ours for the taking.
Look at me: I took several online courses, focused on digital illustration, started volunteering, and ensured that I read my school books every day, amidst every other thing necessary I had to do. It was exciting, but I had to pause and ask why it took so much from me to do the basic stuff. All of those things I listed are not extraordinary if you ask me.
However, I am now convinced that I’m not interested in doing all of these things in hopes of changing the world. I don’t want to be the most extraordinary woman to grace the earth’s surface. Truthfully, I do not have any business with this earth when I die — none of us do.
I am dead and do not exist. What you think about me when I die ceases to concern me. I just want to be comfortable while I am alive, but being involved in so many things is not giving me my desired comfort. Perhaps, this juncture is where people say motivation comes in, but what do I do when nothing motivates me — when not even money, the king of all vices, motivates me? Tell me, what do I do?
You might say that one weird way to stay motivated is to compare yourself with people in your field and get into an imaginary competition with them to get better. Low-key, it makes sense if you think about it, but yet another “problem” of people like us is that we barely make comparisons because we have come to understand over the years that comparison is a thief of joy.
As for me, I measure my growth and progress using my metrics (I don’t know if this makes sense). I set my goals and make a mental note of things I intend to achieve before the day, month or year ends, and I determine whether I did well by how much I accomplished. It is never about another party. It is always about me.
The thing about making comparisons is that you get lost if you had directions at the start of your journey. You end up not doing something for yourself and just doing things because you have to meet the standards set by another person. And if this isn’t unhealthy, I don’t know what is.
On second thought, I’m genuinely the last person anybody should seek advice from on how to make progress or grow because leemaoooooo, I no sabi anything. You should make those comparisons if you must (Yunno, I had to add a disclaimer. I no want wahala).
II
At this point, indecision is a curse. You might have to live with the fear of not being great for a long time because you almost cannot decide anything, from the important things like “Where do you see yourself in 5 years” to seemingly minor things like what to have for dinner or what junk to feed on (shawarma or ice-cream). I bet you don’t even know where to get the ice cream from — I’m built like that. After a series of thoughts and consultation with the gods, I settled for eating suya tonight.
Do you make your decisions based on vibes? Ughhh! Look at us — Twinsies. Sometimes, I fear that my inability to make the right decisions swiftly would be the end of me. I simply do not know how to make life-changing choices like what to do with my art. I have held off writing for myself since I published in November. It started as writer’s block and began stretching out into something I cannot quite describe. I wake up every morning, read articles and books, and somewhere deep inside, there is the conviction that I am a fraud and will always be a mediocre writer.
I would fight the thoughts away, open my notes or my word, try to put down a few words, and then erase them. Then, I would check my Twitter and see news of people succeeding as writers. Of course, that would ruin my day with hopes that tomorrow is a bright new day and an opportunity to grow at what I do. Honestly, I am back to not accepting the title of being a writer. I love this writing thing, but I’m not confident this art loves me and that scares the shit out of me.
Again, I’m back to not knowing what to do with writing. However, I’ll wait around for it to love and embrace me just like old times. Perhaps, the love is just around the corner and all I have to do is treat it like its own “person” that it is, while waiting for it to find its way back to me.
Usually, I do this thing where I run my emotions by an adult or counselor to know if it is proper to feel that way — I’m not sure if it is a good thing or not. However, I have not found the need to run this thing I feel about my writing by anyone. I am sure that I am allowed to feel this way.
My comfort lies in the fact that I’ll figure it out. I always do.
III
I’m not too good at goodbyes, no matter how convincing the reasons are — and whether they are initiated by myself or by the other party. It scares me that your absence in my life would render me breathless and simply cause me to lose the will to exist. If you can’t find me curled up on my bed with junks in my hands and a book to read, you’ll find me holding on too tightly to my relationships. Sometimes, you’ll find me holding on loosely.
I’m built like you — I do not know how to deal with this fear. I do not know how to live in the moment. I am always thinking about what would become of us tomorrow and every other “tomorrow” to come. Of course, I’m sure that I will get over it and be stable when you leave. However, I would first become a mess and a shadow of myself. I would cry so much and deal with the anxiety from what we have now become.
In retrospect, I do not think I ever get over things. I guess I just keep living because I have a theory that there is seldom any break to get over things as adults. The world never waits for you — life just keeps going on. And your issues lurk somewhere in the dark, waiting for you to come out of hiding. When you eventually come out, they’ll strike. God has his way of providing comfort to his babies, anyway.
I’m learning not to pour so much in people and forget to tend to myself in the process. I’m learning that we are at the crux of our lives and we cannot move at the same paces. Right now, some need to fly, some need to walk and others need to walk for their idea of success to actualize. All of these things would cause you and I to be left behind in someone else’s story at one point or another and that is alright. Part of what makes us human is the freedom of choice to stay with a person or leave.
Although, I wish I had total control over the things that happen in my life. I wish I could pause, play, and rewind events. I wish I could foresee who is going to stay and who will leave so that I can save my anxiety for something else.
Unfortunately for you and me, we do not and cannot have control over these things. Fortunately, In their presence or absence, one thing remains — You. Me.
