It’s never over.

This post has taken me the longest to write. And yet I can’t find the best way to begin. So, I will paraphrase Meredith Grey from Grey’s Anatomy, “And we are adults. When did that happen?”
Really? Who quotes from Grey’s Anatomy? 
Inappropriate quotes apart, the past few weeks have been kind of rough, in a non-tangible kind of way (non-tangible rough is obviously any day better than tangible rough); I have been burdened by the demands of this ideal grown-up world. It’s been feeling a lot hard being a grown-up, a little too overwhelming even. The adult check-list has been too much for me to keep up with; the absence of a coffee table isn’t helping either.
My stream of consciousness goes pretty much – what have I done with my life – what is there to love – is this how it’s going to end – is this the end – don’t I deserve more – don’t I deserve better – why didn’t I know better – what have I gotten myself into? – is that it? – it’s over isn’t it? 
Dark thoughts clouded my mind. Nothing made much sense anymore – late nights – simple yet big ideas – hundred percent at work – 5 servings of fruits and greens – loyalty – being low maintenance - early dinners – crossfit – being good – playing fair – being the good daughter/wife/friend/colleague - none of it made sense. I looked and relooked at my life and questioned my ideas of the good and the bad. I drew a blank, mostly.

And then after a bleak morning and a bleaker afternoon, just like that I came across a documentary on Ian Wright, a Jamaican footballer who played for Arsenal. Now, I am usually not the one to watch documentaries made on footballers, let alone of footballers I’ve never heard of. In the film, Wright talks about his harsh life and how he went on to join Arsenal very late in his life, because that was the only thing he wanted to do. He talked about how he wouldn’t let anyone tell him otherwise. He didn’t let anyone tell him it’s over. Because it’s never over, unless you want it to be. There those worlds – it’s never over. When I heard it for the first time, those words sounded magical. So is that a sign? The sign to stop whining and start shaking things up? The sign that says ‘No matter what’s happened before, you can decide at any moment to become the person you want to be, to do whatever you want to do. Starting now.’

Perhaps, I still have a shot at being the adult I want to be and not try and fail at living everybody else’s idea of an adult-life. I decide the grown-up life I want to lead, I choose the kind of coffee table I want to have.