• Ollie Horsfall

I'm a big ball of Frustration...

I've never really been good at change. I've had to do a lot of it and I've had to adapt every time, but when I think about how difficult it seems to be sometimes, it feels like practice does not make perfect.

We're all going through a lot of stuff at the moment. There's a lot of righteous anger in the air, and a lot of that passion is bleeding into other parts of our lives. We feel guilty for not doing enough, and we feel pushed to do more. We feel like we have to do what is right for others but not always for ourselves.

I missed a BLM protest in Prague on Saturday, there was a lot of miscommunication in regards to whether it was on or not and by the time I knew it was on, I had already made important plans, but jeez if I didn't feel like I had let a whole host of imaginary people down by not going. That guilt has been an ongoing undercurrent of my life of late. Quarantine was a period of guilt about not doing enough and then about doing too much. I felt guilty for doing more than others, and then I felt guilty about not making sourdough like everyone else. This in turn has led to a lot of internalised frustration.

I am frustrated because I'm making mistakes that I thought I had managed to stop throughout this transitionary period. I mentioned a little while ago that I had figured out my own rhythm during quarantine. Not relying on others to fulfil needs that I could happily fill myself. Now that the Czech Republic is returning to somewhat normalcy and I can see people again, I'm navigating all of those bad habits I used to have with fresh eyes. Do I allow myself to fall back into the things that weren't healthy for me before, or do I pay extra attention to what comes and pick a new route?

I'll probably peg for something in between. Old habits are hard to break and when I slip into the comfort of hurting myself it's usually because I'm accepting that I cannot change everything, it's entirely frustrating. I'm working really hard on my self, I have fulfilment mentally, physically, even spiritually... but emotionally? Aghhhh!

If my frustrations mostly lie in the realms of my gaseous emotional state, then the logical course of action must be to try and find a way to channel them into something tangible: at this point writing is not enough, working out is not enough, talking about it is not enough. Yes, it's probably more do do with the myriad of complicated stuff that encompasses life for me right now and maybe tomorrow or next week I'll change my mind again, but fuck me if this isn't exhausting!

The one conclusion I have to come to is what is my happiness worth? Guilt is and has been a mainstay of my adult existence and the trouble with that is how it dictates my moods more than I can. Solitude meant I was beholden to no-one but my self and that was refreshing, really refreshing, but I am a social creature and I like to be around people, no matter whether they like me or not, I don't have a chip on my shoulder about that, I love other people and to some degree I know that people like me (in varying amounts), and that makes me happy.

Jeeez, I'm a mess. I guess I'm a happy mess? I miss when I was just one or the other, but I don't help myself. Honestly I could be a Gemini with dual traits that never seems to coalesce, this translates into an endless spiral of doubt and surety that can't just mix together, make a cake and just bloody bake.

It's all so stupid... but introspection is helpful, so here we are...


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