I’ll cross the bridge when I get to it!

Of late, I’ve been rambling. A lot. And “a lot” is a bit of an underestimation. Right since childhood I’ve had this habit of over-analyzing everything I do. I mentally make a note of everything I say or do, then replay the same thing in my mind one hundred times at least, and draw about a thousand different conclusions from each of them. That’s how I normally screw things up for me. I just can’t take things easy. I’m known to complicate even the simplest of situations to the worst extent possible – like blow it up to the power of infinity. My mind wouldn’t relax if it didn’t have a problem to think of – that’s the kind of drama queen I am. I just don’t know to rest in peace. Or live in peace. And of late, it’s all been getting worse. I’ve begun to freak out at everything that happens to happen to me – at everything I say, see or do. I’ve begun to imagine hopeless situations in my mind about things that are least likely to happen and I’ve begun draw contingency plans for them. What’s more pathetic is, I, almost everyday, call the 10 people (apart from my family) on my speed dial list, to get their opinions about my situation, not because I believe their opinions are going to change the situation, but because I believe it’ll help change what I think about it. That’s how senile I have become. That’s how dependent I’ve become.

Time to decide enough is enough. Realization has to hit me sometime, right?

I can’t keep moping and mumbling around all the time. I can’t go on being a pile on. I can’t go on letting each effing thing affect me like hell. I can’t let all the trash in the world occupy my mind and take control over it. I can’t keep bothering people with my so-called sad stories though they are my family and friends. I honestly believe they have no obligation to do it because they are family/friends – at some point of time they’d definitely be bored sick, but be polite to not say it loud and let me down. I just can’t cry buckets each day and look like a pitiful moth. No. I. Just. Can’t.

It’s time I grow up. I know it’s going to be real hard in the beginning, to mend my ways, to transform into that whole new leaf I want to, but hey, I’ve to do it someday, right? I’ve to realize that even by Mr. Newton’s law, my every action is bound to have a reaction – and there is nothing I can do about it. If it helps, maybe I could change the way I react to situations, but that’s the most. I can’t all the time be worried about everything that may/may not happen, I can’t keep grumbling about what has happened either – because nothing’s ever going to change it.

I’ve learn to be someone whom I’d look up to. I’d have to be able to handle myself better, and probably lend an ear to another as well.

And that’d be possible if I learn to cross the bridge when I get to it. And if some bug bites me into hallucinating about it before, I’ll have to sod it. Sounds like a plan, no?

 

 

 

 

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Author: Annapurani Vaidyanathan

I hoard books for a living. And read them too, when I am not sleeping. I express what I think, so my unheard feelings don't sink. I like to sing when I walk, to keep shades grey, at bay. I speak like a dork, but I don't want to drive anyone away. I write what's real, and nothing fake, so visit my blog whenever you need a break ;)

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