It’s been a long week for me.
For some time now, I’ve been playing with this question in my head: “What are you seeking?” It would come to me without my notice or even my welcome. Before I even knew it, it was there, pinned onto the walls my mind. The more I tried to ignore it the more it would tether itself onto me. It greets me in the morning, accompanies me in solitude, and follows me in my efforts of escape–its presence is inevitable.
When I stop and think about it, the answer seemed simple yet, satisfaction never rested with me. Aren’t I seeking to live out what I love to do? To write, play music, photography, and all my other passions. Is that not what I’m seeking? But why am I not satisfied with those? Anxiety latched itself onto every answer I gave. I am chained to it.
I’ve come to realize something though. As of this point in my life, the answer to the question that haunts me isn’t living out what I love to do. I do all those things in order to escape from anxiety as much as possible. When I write, play music, take pictures, go on night walks, travel, hike, and whatever else; I do them because they somehow numb the anxiety that grows within me. Those things make me feel confident, assured, secure, and most importantly: human. That is what I seem to be seeking.
Now the real question is: “What am I anxious about?”