100 Things I Hate... Not Enough Time

I was going to kick start this new blogging idea with a totally different idea, but here it is 6pm on the day I am meant to post it and realize, you know what I hate? I hate that I never have enough time! I am sure anyone reading this just sighed in agreement before a laundry list of things they need to do runs through their head, and I didn’t mean to cause that wave of anxiety for everyone, but I really am so tired of not feeling like I have enough time.

I know it’s silly to bring up Hamilton, as if that isn’t a played out musical at this point to most (although I still listen to it often, don’t judge me). However, the point of bringing it up, is the constant reminder throughout the singing of Alexander writing like he’s running out of time really holds weight to me. I feel like I am on the constant with writing, and life in general, and there’s just not enough time. I don’t know if my anxiety is just constantly reminding me that I am on a one-way ticket to being ashes, and the inevitability of not finishing all I want to do in time is soul crushing, or if this is something everyone deals with in one way or another. Either way, it is absolutely destroying my inner peace over the past few months since I hit thirty.

Why does thirty hit me so hard?

I feel like I never was meant to live this long, I’m sure a deep seeded fear that comes from my mother almost dying when I was a child and she was 26. I’ve always seen life as quick and limited, again another deeply engrained ideology of being forced in a church every week, multiple times, for 18 years. Life is some… gift, and you better not waste it because you don’t have long… and throw in a sprinkle of the pending apocalypse due any minute, and you can only imagine the panic attacks I have daily battling this notion of not enough time.

I’ve been thirty for almost five months, and that fear of not enough time seems to grow by the day. It’s almost like my brain is trying to warn me… or my anxiety meds need to be upped. The latter seems to be more logical. Though, I still don’t know how to shake the feeling. Like I’m going to turn around and POOF… It’s over. Done. I didn’t finish that show, I didn’t complete writing that book, I didn’t read my ever growing TBR pile, I didn’t tell this person or that person what they meant to me, I didn’t say screw you to enough, etc etc… The list of all I need to do could go on far past what I’d be willing to show.

So, I hate it. I hate feeling that I am out of time while the invisible clock of life keeps ticking. Can’t I just have a peek? Just know what time I have left so I can calmly and orderly get myself and all I need finished and prepared for that last second? I know most say they hate the idea of knowing their ‘time’ or their ‘end’, but I would feel such a sense of relief if I could just… be aware. Be in the loop.

Be prepared.

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