I'm frustrated
I frequently need to take my own advice. Today is one of those days.
As I'm sitting here writing this, there's an internal struggle happening. I woke up this morning and went through my routine: email, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram. (It's one of the helpful things about my OCD.) But once I got to the Instagram part things went south.
I won't say who came up in my feed because they weren't doing anything malicious. But I saw some videos and pictures that made me, well, jealous. People on adventures. People meeting other really cool people and hanging out with celebrities. People seemingly without a care in the world. I started thinking about what I'm doing with my life.
Why don't I have thousands of followers?
Why am I not a famous writer/photographer/world traveler?
How come I haven't finished my book? Gosh, I really need to finish that book!
Am I wasting the prime years of my life by not doing more? What does "more" look like?
How come I'm not getting those opportunities?
Here's why that's ironic: I recently wrote about the need to be real, to be yourself, how the perfect Instagram life is showing the reality of whatever life you're living, not someone else's. I should have added that while we all need to be more real on social media, we also shouldn't sit around wishing we had someone else's feed.
And yet here I am, playing those thoughts in my head. I know I have everything I need and more. I love my family, my church, my friends. But there are times, like this morning, when I just want, I don't know, more.
So where does "wanting more" become something harmful? When does it turn into unhealthy restlessness?
I'm still trying to figure that out, but as I dig deeper I think what I'm really longing for is, ironically, to be content. But as a human being, I fall into thinking that things or experiences are what's going to fulfill that desire.
Maybe that's what frustrates me more.
So you want to know my reality? It's this: I struggle with not being in the moment, with chasing more for more's sake. I struggle with being discontent and desiring other people's lives.
But here's the thing: I'm willing to admit it. And in being honest about it, it helps it not have as much control over me.