justsomethoughts

In 2020, I moved from Nigeria to America, and unfortunately, I didn’t really keep in touch with the people I knew back home. I don’t know why. I like to say it’s because of my depression and anxiety, but the truth is, it’s my inability to step out of my comfort zone. Everything I knew before was forgotten like I was living a life of white and then all of a sudden everything gradually turned grey then black (inother words everything turned shitty). 

For the past few years, I’ve been living through my imagination (maladaptive dreaming), escaping into fictional worlds, and immersing myself in characters that feel more real to me than actual people. But despite all of that, I haven’t felt content. What I have felt is this deep pit of loneliness. Especially when I’m walking down the street, watching people pass by while I wait for the bus. It’s like the world is moving forward, and I’m just standing still waiting for the a bus that is running late. I don’t know if that analogy makes sense, but that’s just how I feel.

Being alone isn’t always bad, though. There’s a part of me that finds comfort in my own presence, a kind of happiness that only I understand. If someone asked me to recall a time when I felt truly happy, I’d say it was when I watched Hinata Shoyo from Haikyuu!! jump. That moment filled me with such an intense happiness, it gave me an actual pep in my step for two whole days. I wish I could feel that kind of excitement more often. But then, there are days when I lie in bed, unable to move, unable to shower, unable to brush my teeth… just lying there and rotting away.

I tell myself I want to meet people, but maybe that’s just me living in Delulu land, because the truth is, I live in a way that feels safe. A way that accommodates my anxiety. Unfortunately, my anxiety dictates my life, it tells me what I can do or limits me in a way that makes me hate myself almost, but that doesn’t stop me from trying to take control, starting with this blog.For a long time, I thought nothing I did mattered or was good enough. But recently, I went to a museum I thought, What’s so inspiring about me? What’s interesting enough to appeal to anyone? But then I went to a museum and saw paintings that, to me, felt… mediocre (I can’t really find the appeal of modern art, maybe I’m not looking at the right pieces.). Yet, they were still in a museum. Someone saw them and thought they deserved to be displayed. And that’s why I’m putting myself out there. Even if I feel average, maybe someone out there will find my blog even just a tiny bit appealing.