Do you ever catch the sky at the perfect moment where each color is painted in its full vibrancy? It feels as if the world has stopped and some incredible artist has painted the sky specifically for you. The moment feels too good to be true. It all looks so perfect and you’re stuck staring to the heavens. People say your eyes are the best camera you could have, so there’s no use trying to photograph the marvelous sky. Everything seems so beautiful… but then something hollow settles in your chest. If you’re a morning person, this is definitely the most bittersweet part of the evening. You don’t want the moment to end but time must go on. There’s a small feeling of worry that you won’t ever get to see this gorgeous scene ever again. Of course, this is irrational since the sun sets every evening, but… there’s still worry that you won’t have time in the future to take it all in like you did tonight.
Sometimes, life can be so unpredictable and we fear the future so much that we can’t comprehend what is happening in the present moment. Hearing cuts off. Eyes glaze over. Chest tightens and feels heavy yet empty at the same time. Mind bounces ideas off of assumptions and into conclusions which later turn into expectations that anxiously bury deep in the brain. Cheeks burn and head feels light. Concentration is so far gone. As if my mind doesn’t already race to the worst possible scenario, it won’t be quiet. It sounds like an unspoken soliloquy that is stuck on repeat. I wonder if people can hear my thoughts yet, because, in my head, they sound like they’re at full volume and ready to burst out of my skull. I’m not physically speaking, yet I feel like I need to catch my breath because I’m speaking too much inside. There’s a slight feeling of nausea and hunger. These are just some of the side effects of chronophobia and, really, any type of anxiety and worry.
I never realized it, but I worry about the future very often. I fear that I won’t graduate college or get married, or that I won’t find a job that will benefit me. I worry that my friends will all move on and I’ll be stuck living in the past. I worry that I won’t even find new, loyal friends later in life. I constantly worry about my parents’ health. I worry so much; many of my friends have told me. It’s a part of being human. But, frankly, I’m sick of being human. I wish I didn’t have to worry so much that I drown all my happy thoughts. I wish I could simply have a nice thought without thinking about what could go wrong or what will happen.
Although the future can be frightening to think about, it is very unpredictable. We can’t predict the future and personally, I don’t think we should try to predict it. It leads others to believe what you believe. It results in people saying the world will end tomorrow, even though it was supposed to end in 2012… and the year after that, and… the year after that. It leads to chaos and self-mental abuse. Worrying about every little thing mentally and physically tires me out, personally, and I know I should stop worrying, but I can’t. It’s a psychological struggle and I’m sure others experience this as well.
Now, if I look at my previous worries of the future and see where I am now, I can actually laugh about them. Even though I transferred schools and thought I would lose all my friends, I didn’t. In fact, I created a well-built foundation with some incredible people I never thought I would befriend. Through a change that I thought would be complete hell, it didn’t end up that way. It resulted in discovering more about myself, being able to share my creativity publicly, and helped me come to some heavily important realizations about life and my faith. I had a constant fear of the future, and I still do in some ways, but I have faith that everything will somehow fall in place, and I can find peace in that. This is life. We are all going to have terrible rough patches. But we are also going to have some of the best times of our entire life.
The future will continue to be a mystery until we live it and look past what we’ve survived.
We come out of the battle with bruises and scars, but we rise as warriors.