The Life of My Troubling Internal Monologue

Lately I’m having difficulty deciphering myself. At times I feel convinced that I’ve gone completely mad, I’m insane. Other times I feel resolute in my most recent decisions, which have left me hanging upside down in this world like a loose tooth in a mouth.

Am I a loose tooth?

I alternate between three states: overwhelming insanity, loose-tooth resolution, and confusing indecisiveness. The latest state seems to be taking up a lot of space in my mind, body, and life, as I try to logically decide and understand which one I truly am. I find my passion-driven self battling with my skeptical, logical self, pleading constantly.

I just want to do what I love! I just want to travel, explore the world, feel excited when I look at a tree, and take pictures of that amazing, skinny and awkwardly leaning palm! Does that really make me crazy? I just want to laugh and cry out of happiness, I want to wake up to the sunrise and take pictures of that daily miracle. I want to be in a constant state of dopamine-filled experiences, always appreciating the most simple beauties of life. I want to have a constant flow of inspiration, and I want to write amazing pieces of literature from that inspiration. I want to feel free! I want to build an empire for myself, but I still want to inspire others. And when I’m old, I want to look back on my life, laughing at my silly failures and feeling pride in my accomplishments. I always want to know I did my best, and if my best isn’t good enough for certain people, I want to have the gusto and confidence to continue, unharmed, in my path.

As you may have noticed, this me is quite lovely. She just gets it. She’s optimistic even when faced with seemingly insurmountable challenges, even when faced with what seem like giant failures. She takes life as it comes and she enjoys every moment. She feels happy watching a sunrise and looking at a magnificent tree. She’s a dreamer, but she’s also a believer.

She’s all of these things up until her skeptical self storms in and ruins the party, which generally tends to happen at least several times throughout the day.

You’re ridiculous. You’re silly to think you can have a life full of writing and traveling, and taking pictures of silly trees. If that were a possibility, everyone on Earth would be living that life. And nobody cares about your pictures of silly trees, it’s only you who sees the beauty in the awkwardly leaning palm. You gave up your security and you left what you’d worked hard for, for what? To pursue something so challenging, simply because you love it? Get real, girl!

This me on the other hand, is a nasty and wretched old hag. She’s tainted and worn. She looks at life through shattered glasses, and she only believes what she sees in her tainted reality. She can’t fathom the lust and vivaciousness of dreaming, and she dispels any sense of unexplained optimism.

This part of me taunts each of my mornings as I lay in bed, attempting to approach my day. But today I was lucky to see the light. The little glimmer of hope, the hanging tooth, peeked her head around the broad shoulders of the wretched presence, reminding me of my purpose: You’re going to get up and write!

And so I get up, and I battle my demons. I handle my indecisive waverings, and I struggle to change everything about myself, to transform my wretchedness into resolute optimism and happiness. To always have purpose in my life, and to never allow my vision to waver from that point.

And then, suddenly, things don’t seem so bad. Her wretched presence leaves me, and with her departure, I’m left to only see the beauty in my life, to realize all of the blessings around me, all of the things I have to be grateful for, and understand the true positives in being a loose tooth.

A loose tooth makes way for change and transformation, and If I’m a loose tooth, that means I’m about to become something strong and magnificent.

I’m about to become an adult tooth, free of wiggles.

 

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