Have I Made A Mistake?
Every day is busier than the previous one. I work a lot, but also I lose a lot of time too. I have been proud of myself for writing every day on Medium for 5 months no matter what (with rare exceptions), and then I decided to make a pause. I thought this was a reasonable decision, a rational one, but as the days went by, I kept on thinking that I have simply given up and there is nothing to be proud of.
Am I really as busy as it seems? Am I busier than a teacher or a doctor? Am I busier than someone who has more than one job? Am I busier than a parent? Am I busier than a single-parent? Am I truly busier than anyone else? Am I that busy that I am not capable of making time to write anymore? Frankly speaking, I do not think so. Not at all. Something definitely went wrong.
I know one thing for sure — the job I have right now is not my dream job, it is not my goal. I am 22, I have always known that I wanted to work in the industry that I was fond of and I wanted to do what I was interested in. I have always known it and it has always been a priority of mine. I managed to do one thing — remain in the industry (fashion), apart from the year or two when I decided to earn a little on the side and worked as an English tutor too (so I was a full-time student at University, had a part-time job as a journalist, which was more like a full-time job, and a side gig as a tutor). However, what has always interested me is media, and I have always wanted to be a storyteller, not a…whoever I am these days. So how did I get here?
Let me tell you! I have a major goal and I need money for it. Well, my parents have been saving up for my entire life for this to happen, and in order to not keep on taking money from them, I decided to accept a job offer, that would definitely cover my living expenses, whereas if I went back to media right now, I would not have enough for sure. At that moment it made perfect sense, and when I say it that way, it still does. However, when I look at my life from a general perspective, when I imagine it as a big picture, when I analyze how I spend my days, I am devastated.
That is when my side-writing kept on saving me — no matter how bad my day was, I knew that there would be a part when I would forget about everything or just put it all aside and w r i t e. It made me feel like I was not actually giving my entire life away, that I was not giving up on my dreams and my goals, that I was not disappointing and betraying myself.
So how could I stop? How could I let that inner voice become so loud that it freaked me out? How could I get so anxious about my writing and the subjects that I have chosen, that it seemed that not doing it anymore was much better than making new attempt at getting better every single day of my life? Have I not known that writing would be a life-long challenge, but the one that I wanted to take up the most? EXACTLY!
2016 has been a fucking rollercoaster for me, and I know one thing for sure — I can accept that others can sometimes take away or not give me something I have worked really hard for (like a visa for my Master s degree abroad), but I cannot accept that I am the one who is taking away something that is so valuable to me and to my well-being. Writing, you have been saving me for my entire life, so how could I give up on you?