Mirror - Written 2013 - Copyright Jag Aoti
There is something strange looking back at me in the mirror. Someone almost unrecognizable by myself. Someone I wish I knew better.
As life’s pace seemed to speed up exponentially in the last 7 years, my mind has seemed to twist and turn from bliss to fear, from joy to sorrow. Less and less days seem to have me in them. It seems a consciousness I once felt daily, a joy and care freed living, has been reduced to drastically different highs and lows.
While it would be easy to brush off as possibly a mental disorder or standard shifts in mood, I feel I am lacking a clarity and focus I once lived with 24/7. This focus and self-consciousness led me through to a strong career, a strong identity and a strong ability to commit to something, anything. Yet know my focus cannot coincide with my lust for life. It is one or the other, black or white, 1 or 0.
When I look back up, this man in the mirror looks back with wounds. Death, betrayal and mistakes. He looks different. Not worse, maybe better. But he feels different. Feels departed from himself. Almost as if looking down upon his actions, often with approval and happiness, yet disconnected.
I once felt as though I had thoughts no others had. Deep thoughts that allowed me to see deeper into situations, people, the world, and problems. It may be this ability that has led to my dismay. My disconnection. My inability to juggle joy, fear, sadness and motivation effectively.
His eyes look tired. Not that he needs sleep, but that they’ve seen too much. That what they have brought in has plagued the mind and stained what was once a hive of energy and dreams.
Travelling the world from the perspective of sales, meetings, objectives not for me but for the company, has left a somewhat jaded taste in my mouth. While new places brought interest, the road has been tiring. Masking loneliness, burning out and travelling pain with booze and smoke has felt like a savior, but it has its own faults.
His beard is long, his hair is wild. His lips are tighter than they’ve ever been. What was once carefree is now careful. Is now more confident, but less adventurous. Is more tired.
Longing for that lift once felt every day. Longing for that optimism that drove me towards success and friendships. Maybe it was a fleeting time. A time with an expiry. Maybe this is it for now. Black or white. 1 or 0.
The distance from myself is growing.