Facing My Fears #5
In the last post I had decided to face my fear of not doing something productive all the time.
The task I decided to do was to go home . College was off for three consecutive days and hence my sister asked me to come home; she only comes home twice an year and I wouldn’t meet her until December. But somehow I wasn’t feeling good about it. I felt that my entire weekend would be “wasted” as I had an assignment submission and a lot of pending work scheduled then. Going home would make me fall behind on my schedule. Now as you read this, you’re probably thinking “What’s the big deal?” And frankly, as I write this, I am thinking the same. So, let me what was going on in my mind then:
Falling back on schedule=> bad mid sems =>worse end sems =>low grades => an unsatisfactory internship =>a stupid job =>a worthless life.
Of course, I didn’t verbalize this exact sequence of thoughts. But these were the underlying assumptions that me extremely fearful of this seemingly normal task; going home on a weekend. That’s one of the tricks fear(or any emotion for that matter) pulls on your mind. When you’re “in it”, your thinking gets skewed. When you’re “out”, it comes back to normal. It is in these situations you must realize that what you feel might not be how things are.
Owing to my sister’s persuasive skills and my own commitment to not give into my fears, I decided to go through with it.We planned to give my mom a surprise and told her that I am not coming home. Her overwhelming reaction on seeing me made the trip totally worth it ! I met my sister after 8 months and felt really grateful that I had changed my mind. I spent the three days eating great food, playing Age of Empires and annoying my sister. Of course, I could have still worked while at home, but I decided not to. I decided to cherish the time I was at home. Returning back, I surprisingly felt more relaxed, refreshed and filled with energy as opposed to the guilt ridden state I thought I would be in. I realized that it wasn’t an all-or-nothing thing, that if I wasn’t working, I was wasting time or that not doing something “productive” was equivalent to “wasting my life”.