The Blues Behind The Insta-Blues

If you didn’t know any better, and you happened to look at my Instagram feed, you would likely think that where I lived was a magical place in which the sun always shined, the skies were always blue and the water was forever the most alluring shade of turquoise.

Sure, I’m very lucky to live where I do but the notion that this is always the case is simply not true.

The truth is, my Instagram feed is carefully curated and one twenty minute walk to get coffee on a bright sunny day could give me enough content for many weeks worth of posts. What this creates however is the impression that things are always fucking perfect.

Incorrect.

If you’re a long time reader of mine you might remember a post on my old website that discussed the illusion we can create through social media. It’s so easy to do. And so easy to hide behind the fantastical perception it portrays of our reality. Often though, it can be the furthest thing from our reality.

I promised in a blog earlier this year¬†that I would share my story with honesty, transparency and authenticity. And whilst, like many of us, I am not willing to give up the harmonious colour palette of my Insta-feed, I am willing to break down to you what’s really behind many of these snapshots into my life.

Let’s say you see this photo of mine…

Blue Skies

…looks great right?!

Sure. And it is!

But even on such a gloriously sunny day still there are times in which I don’t feel anything. I feel tired for no reason. Simple conversations with people or friends becomes the hardest thing in the world to do. The thought of going to the gym no longer seems one that I am willing to act on. And, even when I do, I will get there only to stare into blank space for twenty-five minutes after my first set of bench press and wonder the hell why my body feels so lethargic and unwilling to give a fuck.

I have many days like this. Today is one of them. Yesterday was too. Though often it’s easier just to edit a photo of the Bronte swimming pool or Coogee Beach with the classic heart eye emoji as the caption, followed by twenty-seven thousand generic hashtags, than to try and understand and to talk about why on such a sunny day I am feeling so grey.

But, of course, this does little good.

This is one of the reasons why I love to write so much. To me, writing is freedom. No rules. Just pure expression. It makes me happy. And if by sharing some of these thoughts I can help someone else out there; help them to understand that they’re not alone in the way they’re feeling, than even better.

I promised you honesty, transparency and authenticity, so here it is. Today might be tough, yes, but tomorrow gives birth to new opportunities and a new chance to do something great. Whether the sun is shining or not, I’m ready.

Truth.

PJ.

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When FOMO Strikes Hard

I arrived home, exhausted. Tonight was the night. A short nap and then it would begin. Tomorrow was deadline day in which that bitch of an assignment would be due. It was going to be a late one. As late as was required to get it done. Focus was going to be important. Calm and quiet therefore essential. Though surely there were powers conspiring against such desires.

I tried to have that nap. To give me at least some small remnant of the energy required. But the lives of those others with whom I live had contradictory plans. I guess it was a Saturday night after all…

Intoxicated ecstasy fueled laughs and questionable social interactions; the entire flat an amphitheater of care-free joy. I sat upright in my bed. My notes sprawled across my sheets and my laptop perched upon my knees. I tried to block out the noise. But my broken earphones allowed the backing chorus to remain a persistent distraction.

I guess I could have shut my door. But still there was something inside me that wanted to remain connected to the night’s activities. Surely a better prospect than the bore my night would soon become?

Hours went by and visits to my room from increasingly drunk friends rose in frequency. As I looked back down at my laptop screen and noted the stagnant word count, a growing feeling of dread came over my body. Surely I must have known there would be plenty more nights out such as these? But in that moment it seemed as this would be the last of such opportunities.

I am proud to say that I stayed in that night. And I am proud to say the results achieved, despite my internal doubts upon submission, were well and truly worth it.

It is not all about the results, of course, however these small successes are instilling a growing sense of belief within; a sense of direction; a sense of, ‘if I switch on, focus and commit myself to this shit, then there’s really no stopping me.’

Part of my is falling for this arduous grind. More than financial analysis, consumer behaviour analysis and strategic human resource planning, I am learning just what it takes to achieve; just how much hard work and sacrifice is required.

Since that night there were many more occasions in which the word ‘No’ would again become a reiteration of just why I was putting myself through the sleep and social deprivation. It’s not the piece of paper I’ll have in four months time. Nor then the ability to make mention of these sleepless nights on my CV.

It is instead the the knowledge that all those bullshit excuses I once told myself will be cast from my life once and for all; that the many pages of my journals, listing the myriad of things I had started but never finished, can be torn out [and burned] and replaced with far more helpful affirmations of my potential.

And to be blunt with you, that gets me feeling pretty fkn excited.

 

PJ.

 

 

The Moments That Make Me

All of the awkward silences,
The sleepless nights,
The tear soaked pillows,
The tossing, the turning and the toiling.

All of the blood, the sweat,
The anguish and the heartache.
The ups and the downs
And of course all of the broken promises.

The betrayal, the devastation;
Innumerable days filled with ponder, hoping.
All of the moments of financial insecurity and uncertainty;
The moments of wonder: How will I survive exactly?

Though despite my struggles,
I am still here.
I am still fighting.
I am still alive.

These moments have made me who I am today;
I am thankful for these testing times.
They give me the strength, the courage – the fight.
These moments serve as my inspiration.

My destiny draws ever closer.
This is my life, my dream.
It is real.
It is happening.

I will never give up.

PJ.

Originally published on Greatness Via Passion, 2014.