Cheeseburger or double cheeseburger? Coke or Pepsi? To travel Asia or Europe? To marry or not to marry? To have kids or not to have kids? To have a dog or not to have a dog? To exercise or not to exercise? To choose the career that I love or money? To read a book or not to read a book? To love myself or not to love myself? To rent a house or to buy a house? To quit or not to quit? To smile or not to smile? To be kind or to be right? To learn the guitar or the piano? Each choice feels like opening another reality. Each choice feels like opening another door. What the fuck is the difference with all of these choices? How do we know if we’re still in control of who we really are as a person with free will when in an alternate reality we’ve made the exact opposite choice of what we did. How can we make the perfect choice to have more control and be the best versions of ourselves?
Sometimes the words I type feel unreal. Sometimes I think I’m losing my ability to write. I miss my old writer self when I was brave and playful and confident with my words. I wish I could turn back time and try to take it easy with myself. That the universe didn’t have to make sense to me. That I could’ve taken it one day at a time instead of burning myself out.
Someone once said that when you stretch your intellect beyond a certain point, you will crack up. And I think that’s what happened to me. I became so indulged with the power of creation that came with controlling the way that I think that made my mind crack. It’s now always anxious with or without reason. There isn’t a single day that it doesn’t think about death or the afterlife. It was trying to control the nature of my reality that sent me into a mental health facility.
I became so paranoid about something called “the butterfly effect” and how with every choice we make we create a different reality. With other lives that we’re leading. With other people we’re becoming. And I just want to be the perfect version of myself, but I feel like a failure nowadays. It’s hard to succeed when I’ve already lost my mind. And it’s even hard to live when everything I feel feels unreal.
I am still a child. I am still curious about the silliest things. I am still afraid when people ask me what I want in life because I don’t know what I want in life. Everything perhaps?