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Coffee Date: The art of getting comfortable

This is not easy to write, not just because it’s hard for me to discuss but because it has been so long since I’ve written anything that I don’t know how to do it well. Let’s just let the stream of thoughts flow.

After the last earthquake in Croatia, I took some time off. It was right before New Years and I just wanted to have some time for myself and away from my job and blog and everything. Just me. It turned into a disaster.

My mind does not like to be left without a hobby because then I spiral into negativity and episodes of sadness, fear, anxiety and all things that make me want to lock the door and never leave the room. Working from home certainly made this easy for me – too easy.

The first red flag that I was not doing well came with a sudden craving for smoking. I broke the habit over a year ago and was not planning on sinking into my nicotine addiction no matter how bad the cravings got. Smoking was an addiction but it was also a way for me to push down negative feelings. Something in my cup, music in the background and a cloud of smoke around me.

Instead of screaming that I am not doing well and seeking help, I started to close up. I got new addictions that helped me push the feelings down even for a short while – beer and binge eating. A few pounds are already visible, but I pretend they are not there.

“Why are you this unhappy?”, I asked myself one day. In an attempt to try and make myself feel better I started thinking about everything I had – a family, a good relationship, a good job etc., and the more I listed everything I got, the more I felt ungrateful and started telling myself that my own negative feelings were invalid and that I need to be happy because I do not have a lot to be unhappy about.

In the past, these feelings meant that there was something wrong in terms of me not seeking out to find what inspires me, to strive for more. These feelings were there to yell at me that I’ve gotten too comfortable and that I need to start moving forward. They would force me to move forward before they ate me up alive. I completely disregarded this now. I knew this when I was 15 and full of life but the 24 and tired version of me wanted to turn a blind eye and become even more comfortable.

And so January flew by with me waking up, working, eating, watching Netflix and being socially anxious about going outside while telling myself I am not socially anxious and that it was just the time we live in when people don’t want to be around other people. A month of getting extremely comfortable with all those negative feelings still floating around. A month of telling myself I do not deserve to feel bad because I have what I need to survive. Not live. Survive.

My quarantine-born Netflix addiction would lead me to different shows and whenever there was a scene that was sad or tears-of-joy happy, I would have to try really hard not to cry. It was not the scenes, it was something inside of me that had to be cried out but I did not let it. I would get in bed after a long, hot shower – the same bed I spent the whole day working and watching Netflix in – and I would pray for sleep to come before my brain had time to overthink this mess I was making of myself.

I stopped writing because the 24 and tired version of me knew that writing would get the demons out and it would make me move, kick me right out of this comfort zone.

And so February came. I looked at what I had done to my blog, looked at all of the filming equipment I got for youtube because I was excited to make videos and I just kept on getting comfortable. I will get to it eventually. I will get around my dreams and goals right after this “me time” that has done nothing but made me unhealthy, mentally unstable, overly emotional and a complete mess overall. Isn’t “me time” supposed to make you feel better?

So here I am, doing what I’ve done countless times before. Writing all of this out in hopes it will provide some much-needed clarity, peace and healing. Am I scared that I went in too deep into the comfort that it will take me months to recover and get back to myself? Yes.

But I have to force myself to not get scared by that feeling. I have to force myself to face it, conquer it and remind myself of who I am, what I came here to do and convince myself that I am not this tired, comfortable and unhappy person I tried so hard to be. There’s more, there will always be more and I have the right to go after it, whatever it takes.

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