[Sober Living] I’ll Regret This?

The thing that brought me the most joy the day I wrote this was watching these neon lights change color. There was just something soothing about seeing something so simple, abstract, and unique that framed the rest of the day in this weird sort of context. I don’t act in ways that are best for “my career.” I act in ways that are best for my health, physical and mental, rather than any financial health.

I haven’t been this anxious in years.

Between the closing sensation that I get when I’m about to reach a panic attack, where my vision focuses almost completely on what I can see in front of me and I’m nearly hunched over with that sort of scary, hyperfocus on trying to figure out something only to not be able to understand even the last word I read, to legitimately feeling my heart beat ever faster, the only thing I’d regret about leaving would be the consequences of sticking around.

My big anxiety attack changed my life.

Before that, I didn’t really value much in life. I had my family, my friends, my possessions, and my experiences, but I was more of an observer just being there. I had depression most of my life and lingering doubts over whether I had more undiagnosed psychological issues, but I tended to keep that to myself. Just keep working, and it’ll sort itself out.

That first big anxiety attack took a lot out of me.

I doubt it took years off my life, but I wouldn’t be surprised. The details are still too abstract to really explain, but the results appeared to be a stroke, and it took me a few months to get back to a normal mental capacity, so I’d say it did quite a lot of harm to my psyche.

It also took my desire for money out of the equation.

Not just because there’s no use for money if you’re dead, or in a sort of mentally broken state I was in for a few hours, but because other than having enough money to live comfortably, what more could I need? I have no need for anything expensive. If I want something, I can go work for it. I never did any vacationing or purchase anything expensive that first go-around, so money was more of an item to collect in the bank than anything worth sacrificing myself any further in the pursuit of obtaining.

I abstain from high-stress, high-pay jobs.

Sure, there’s moderate stress at all times now. The difference is having this downtime to focus on my writing, editing, and experiencing life at my time is a greater existence for me. Even though it’s work and I’ve received no money yet from it, I enjoy writing more than anything else, really. It’s cathartic.

Writing also helps me see the future.

Writing freeform my thoughts can help me see where I’m at, going, and whether I need to change.

Regrets? I only regret wasting time.

Endtable:
Quotes: None.
Sources: My personal experiences.
Inspirations: Work should be something that fits you. Don’t take it for the money because that job will control you and turn you into something you don’t want to be in life.
Related: Other Sober Living entries.
Picture: Originally, I drew something that didn’t quite interpret those neon lights in Paint, so I just drew some sad colors. Then I went back and took some photos showing the neon lights from the phone charger. Some of the alternating colors: blue/purple, green/red, and purple/blue.
Written On: October 23rd [15 minutes]
Last Edited: No further edits.
My big goal is to write. My important goal is to write "The Story." My proudest moment is the most recent time I overcame a fear, which should have been today. I'm a better zombie than I was yesterday. Let's strive to be better everyday. (Avatar)