Back to an outlet, never felt so good

It probably has not been too long, but after weeks of not being able to write, to somehow release all my somewhat demons, I was close to meeting with insanity… I could feel her, slowly approaching, each night coming closer (timid little thing), I could see her slender silver figure, playful somehow, with an almost crystalline voice calling out my name…
Now my fingers glide through the unfamiliar key board (my last beloved laptop gave out on me, hence the reason for my absence)… But slowly, I think, we are getting to know each other… I have said my goodbyes to that silver figure, it’s not time for us to keep a permanent contact just yet, though I think that, sporadic visits are a little healthy, too much sanity could go the wrong way… couldn’t it?

Where to start, the beginning would naturally seem the best option, but I can hardly remember it, most of my thoughts are tied in related knots, and I cannot truly follow their trail in order to get to the origin, but I wonder, is there ever a true origin to an idea, or a thought??? Perhaps in certain cases, in different minds, not my own mind though, as chaotic as it is, hardly ever diverging from entropy, all my thoughts are sort of scrambled… and yet, they are still sort of organized, recently, they revolve around two things, Ana and existential crisis… Ana is, though perhaps too complex, not so bad… Whether because she truly is not so bad, or because, after 11 years, I have grown use to her, I do not know…

Existential crisis, well… I have seen 26 ( soon to be 27) winters and I am no way near  where I thought I would be in life, nor do I have everything (or at least most of it) figured out. In fact, I am more confused and lost than I was, perhaps, at 16… I finished (after way too long) my bachelor 7 months ago, and I was not good enough for the real world…

“Well Mrs Rasul, your resume is quite impressive, and the work you did at the microbiology lab is very interesting (I disguised my micro course for “experience in the field”) but, it´s still not enough, we are looking for someone with more experience.  When you do get more experience, I encourage you to reapply”… I stopped listening after that, smiled where it was appropriate, and shaking hands when I realized it was over…

I ended up as a teacher at a private school, my degree, forgotten in some remote corner of my mind…For months I kept carving my brain for an answer to ” so what´s next in my life”… I managed to amass decent amount of ideas, but nothing that I truly felt worth while… always stopping myself (secretly, I didn’t want to admit to myself that those weren’t paths I wanted to follow), and I am left in the abyss of the unknown… like a jester, I juggle with possibilities that I immediately shut it down… Lost in myself, my decisions, my desires… I still want to do research, I still want to travel the world, but I seem to keep getting stuck here, in the same place, doing relatively the same thing…

I feel lost, confused, dazed, and I suppose there are emotions that I don’t truly know the label to… An empty feeling in the pit of my  stomach, accompanied by a huge hole in the middle of my chest, my lungs shrink with every deep breath, as if each alveolus lacks surfactant somehow, and they can no longer inflate to allow the passage of air..
At least, while my fingers glide along my key board, I feel somewhat a new.. Organize and prioritize, divide and conquer, would seem like a good strategy to follow.. Just like Julius Cesar is thought to have said once, “Veni, vidi, vici”…

Though that silver figure has retreated to darker shadows in my mind, Ana roams around freely, visiting when she pleases, hurting me when she wants…. She’s more bearable somehow, we are close, we are one, she likes me in her own way… I need her in so many ways, and I hate her in so many others… Alas though, Ana is, so far, the least of my worries; I have learned to deal with her freedom, maybe someday I’ll be able to send her back in her enclosure, maybe she can keep that silver figure some company… For now, I want her to stay, we dance together to the rythm of her shrill and cold voice.. “I’ll help you” she says, and just like riding a bicycle, we hold hands and go at it again… I trick myself into thinking, that this time around, I’m the one who has control… so far it may seem that way, but I know her too well, maybe if I don’t let my guard down we could in fact get along…