Situations, reactions, altering perceptions, skewing reality, imagining. What if…?

My usual tactic for falling asleep is to plan my day, think about what I’ll be doing tomorrow. Sometimes it backfires and my mind races away from me, into situations that may not happen, that I dread will EVER happen, yet I find myself catching up and placing my emotions and thoughts, studying my reaction, conscious of how others would act and comment, conscious of how others would handle things better. Trying to manipulate my thought processes to my conscious needs, instead of letting them roam free and take their own form.

The situations are never good ones, there is no “What if we were blessed with children?”, “What if I was granted three wishes?”, it’s always the negative thoughts that come with the dark. Almost as if they don’t dare venture out unless they have a cover, an excuse, for invading my thoughts and dreams. ‘If it’s dark’ they ponder ‘we can trick his imagination too’.

Soon I’m wide awake, breathing silently as creaks and thumps resonate throughout the house, each one a separate person sneaking about downstairs, rifling through our possessions, invading our home. This kind of irrational fear is held and grows purely in the mind.

I digress.

I don’t consider myself ‘matured’ and I am beginning to realise that, as I grow older, I don’t grow. I seem to have stopped. Hence all the questioning and comparison. If I was more like her, If I had his outlook. If.

I seem to constantly fail myself, set standards then ignore them, aim for targets and fall short, expect more than I should. If I was smarter, if I had chosen another career, if I had the chance to prove myself, if, if, if. Questions without answers, emotions without console.

Is it all appearance? Am I taking the wrong approach? If I was to bury my thoughts and questions and concentrate on the outside, would that improve me? If I could portray myself as I wanted. If I could throw the illusion. If I was someone else?

None of that would be me. It would be just that, an illusion, a false portrait. If I went down the road, where would I end up? I would be lying to everyone, but most importantly I would be lying to myself.

It is a recurring theme, and part of it demands a further exploration of itself. Lacking the knowledge of self is key. It can be a crippling theme, constantly questioning, probing, disturbing. It can be coaxed and pulled towards meaning, but always, always, wriggles free at the last moment. The light at the end of the tunnel taunts, never reached.

I’ve long searched my mind for answers, I once got caught in the painful spiral of confusion that self same process defines. Now I manage to pull myself out, dragging myself back to where I should be, how I should be thinking. I’m still not sure where that expectation is set and controlled, but I know that my mind should be somewhere else, somewhere ‘proper’ and ‘right’ and… well… ‘not wrong’.

I am who I define? I define who I am? Which is held true, which defines me? The spiral begins again. If I was more positive. If I was less cynical. If I saw good. If…