I can measure my life in the thoughts that have absently consumed my mind.
In 6th and 7th grade, it was all about finding friends and fitting in. Moving to two new states during middle school will do that to you. In high school, it was all about doing well, excelling so I could get into the best college.
In college, again, it was about applying myself and finding the most kickass job once I graduated. Then, when I got that “dream job” and realized it was severely lacking what I hoped it’d be, my thoughts were all about my next move. When you graduate from college and are no longer tethered to such a structured environment, all of the options you have are overwhelming. At least they were for me.
In those years directly after college, I had a panoply of thoughts, trying to figure out what I wanted to be: A nutritionist? A writer? A chef? A nurse? A psychologist? A lawyer? In my mind, there was no limit to what I could do or where I could go.
So, for the longest time, my idle thoughts were self-focused and idealistic and driven. My mind was a ticker tape of aspirations and goals and ideals. What will be my next move? How will I get there? When will I go? Where will it be?
Then, gradually, something shifted. My confident, ambitious thoughts were taken over by thoughts of others. Thinking about this person, that person, why won’t they be/see/do xyz. Missing this person. Wishing I could be with this person. It’s fucking tiring. I’ve been annoyed by my thoughts for far too long.
I miss my scheming and plotting. I miss being overwhelmed by all the options I have in front of me, not being able to choose what I want for myself. I miss coming up with crazy life plans and then trying to figure out how to achieve them.
I’m so sick of this shit. Frankly, it’s embarrassing that I give so much real estate in my mind to persons who don’t rightfully deserve it. I miss me consuming my thoughts. I know I won’t have that luxury forever, so I figure I damn well should take advantage of it while I still can. Why am I wasting my valuable brain space thinking about someone else? I can’t change someone else. No matter how much I scheme and plot and wish it were so.
You know who I can change? Me.
So, godammit, Paige. Let your mind think about you again.