The quintessential perfectionist

Hey Hello??? Is anyone reading this? I don't know what I should be saying. Journaling is a good habit, they said. It's a scientifically proven way to boost happiness. I don't know how to describe how I feel. I tend to feel well throughout the day but my mood feels like it's sitting on a volcano island. A sense of anxiety over a future explosion overwhelms me. I fear the unknown and feel like a kitten among wolves. My mood is generally anxious. Nervous. Worried. FRAGILE like glass and cold like a fridge. Anxiety is as cold as a January night. It's as cold as carrefour's fridge. It feels massively large on my chest. I don't fear for my life, I fear for my freedom. Give me liberty or give me death, the saying goes. I wish I can detach it from my body and give it away. Throw it away. Flushed. It clogs. It causes trouble. I value my right to self expression. To pleasure. To life. To love.  To feel. To run. To speak. My brain as the biggest asset in my body. My he

 Journaling day 2 Good afternoon,  Yesterday has been alright. I ended up spending hours stuck in traffic and so that took up a substantial part of my day, which was not ideal as it left me shattered. However, in the evening, I felt like I had regained my energy and recharged my mind by spending time on the terrace with the family and disconnecting from the internet. I'm finding it really helpful to limit the amount of time I spend on social media and my phone in general, especially in the morning up to a few hours after I wake up. I'm also finding it helpful to sleep at a fixed time every night as it helps me take control over my own nights and mornings, and generally feel like I am more in control of my schedule. It also guarantees that I sleep well even if I have got something to do early in the morning the next day. So far, I'm loving all the time I get to spend with my grandma, and look forward to spending my mornings with her. On the other hand, my nights are best spe

 Journalling day 1 I've had a good morning so far. Two days ago, I finally let out so many things that have consumed my thought and turned me into a sullen little wretch (excuse the language, I am currently reading Wuthering Heights). I have experienced an insane amount of anxiety and fear over what might come in the future. I worry too much. On one hand, I love it here because there is orgasmic good food and substantial family support that I wouldn't be able to find in Bristol. On the other hand, the U.K. offers growth, independence, and room for self improvement. I do consider myself a highly sensitive person: I tend to feel guilty over the slightest change in mood I notice in those around me. I have this irrational thought that I take too much and never give; and so I've fed and developed this overtly sensitive part of me. You see, when I was younger than 10, I had this impression of myself as someone who does not wish well for others, as someone who does not want happin

 Woke up feeling great! Like the sun rays coupled with a gentle breeze, there's optimism lurking in every corner. I have sat down and had a conversation with my mom and grandma on how being in the right place is a state of mind rather than something determined by outside forces. I came to the realisation that I am very much sensitive to the words of others around me, their thoughts, their beliefs, and their energies. Any word spoken by them can lead my thoughts to spiral out of control and think of all that can go right or wrong. My grandmother has mentioned something sexist and it irritated me noticeably, despite it not being intentional. I am very passionate about women's rights. I feel awful for sometimes not being able to speak up against sexist practices when I hear people bring them up, but it takes an immense mental toll on me that I freeze and try to remove myself from the conversation. I think misogyny and violence against women is the root cause of why I feel unsettle

 A few days in Jordan.  A sense of ease and yet a feeling of separation. Longing. Craving. How do I make sense of it? Dasha wrote something along the lines of  "Living with your heart scattered across the earth means every parting somewhere is a coming together somewhere else." I feel like everytime I say a goodbye to a place, I tuck away a version of myself into a hidden psyche, hoping that in a few months I will able to bring her back to life. She dies, however. She is gone. Forgotten. Tucked away into oblivion. For every time I visit a place, a people, a collective consciousness, she is touched, becoming unpure. Out in the open. Wilderness. Me. Taken away and battered, challenged, questioned. A few days in Amman. I have been taking care of myself. For the past few days, things have been hectic. Reuniting with your family is never a bad thing, especially when it means that I get to rejoice in the rich aroma of home cooked food. I'm learning. Thriving. Growing.  I believ

 May 3rd 2020 I am utterly exhausted: this pandemic has taken away a wholesome university experience from me. This is not to say, however, that I didn't try to enjoy my time as much as I could by going on walks often these past few months, admiring the grandeur of the beautiful Arlington gardens near the Student's Union. Closing my eyes, feeling a light breeze caress my hair as I walk through the music of the chirping birds, I get an epiphany. I am a stewardess on this earth: I am here to care for it and pass it on to the next generation while preserving its beauty and maintaining its health.  After attempting to go vegan for the past week or two, I think I have failed miserably at achieving a well rounded diet. My bones were aching and my body was craving. Oh, fish and cheese, when am I ever going to be able to give you up without longing for the food-gasm you give me everytime. I am proud of myself for trying, however, for making a healthier choice for my body and this beauti