Time

Day 2 already

Time flies.

Or maybe I’m flying.

Or maybe none of this is real and I’m just floating through some strange dream.

But here I am.

And here you are.

Yesterday was about freedom — the first blog, the first step, the first breath outside the chaos. But today? Today is about time. Because time has always been the thing I’ve struggled with the most. Not because I’m late. But because I feel it. Deeply. Constantly. Sometimes too much.

Time either drags or sprints. There’s rarely an in-between. One minute I’m sitting still, watching the world blur past me. The next, I’m racing through thoughts, plans, ideas — faster than I can write them down. Sometimes I feel like I’m chasing time. Other times, like it’s chasing me.

Hospital did strange things to my sense of time. Days felt like weeks. Weeks felt like years. But then again, so does anxiety. So does overthinking. And healing. And maybe even growth.

Some days, I feel like Bojack. That version of me who’s trying to do better, be better, live better — but never quite sure if he’s pulling it off. There’s a scene that sticks with me:

"Every day it gets a little easier. But you gotta do it every day. That’s the hard part. But it does get easier."

That’s what today feels like.

Now that I’m back in the world, I’m trying to figure out what time actually means to me. Is it just a schedule? Is it pressure? Is it possibility?

Right now, it feels like a reminder. A reminder that I’m here. That I made it. That I’m doing something. Even if that something is just… writing a blog post on a random Tuesday.

And speaking of Tuesday

Tuesday finally has a feel.

Yesterday was freedom. Today is time. Tomorrow? Who knows. We'll see tomorrow what tomorrow is.

I have a Wednesday to live now.

— Brincat