I rarely write posts which are unplanned, unstructured and spur of the moment. My Type A, obsessive, stressy, organised personality just doesn’t do that. So only a handful of times in my blogging life have I just whacked WordPress open and started typing of my own accord because I had something on my mind which I wanted to write about. This is one of those times. In fact, it almost wasn’t. Typically, I have a “blog post ideas” note on my phone (along with 50 other notes and lists of various things) which I was just going to add this idea to, to write at a later time but then I thought, why the f would I do that? It’s on my mind now. So stop being so goddamn uptight and write. So that’s what I’m doing. Obviously.
About 4.5 minutes ago from now (at the time of writing), I had a thought which has definitely cropped up before to certain degrees but I’ve never really given it much lime-light. It didn’t seem like a thought worthy of limelight and you’ll understand why that is. I suddenly thought and wondered whether anything I was actually doing even mattered. I tweeted about it and had some responses to say that other people felt that way too. It’s clearly quite a universal thought among us human race. Does anything matter.
I don’t have the answer but I can’t stop thinking and wondering about it. As I’m sitting here, wasting 15 minutes writing this post, pondering about whether writing this post matters, I could be off doing something else which equally, doesn’t matter. Does anything really matter. I guess this all boils down to the argument and discussion about life, purpose and why the freaking heck are we here. I’m sure you have your own opinions about that one.
Earlier today, I found out that a girl I went to school with is going to be cast in Hollyoaks. She was always a talented girl; could sing, dance, act, got great grades, had a bunch of friends, was sickeningly pretty and worst of all, was really nice to go with it. She’s had a successful acting career since leaving school, she was cast in Wicked and now has landed a role in Hollyoaks. As I’m finding this out, I’m sitting in bed at quarter to 7 on a Tuesday evening, watching Friends for the hundredth time and eating a sausage sandwich. The ketchup of which, was all over my face.
It was then on when I began to wonder whether anything I’m doing or have done really matters; to me or anybody else. Am I just pretending it matters so I don’t go completely nuts and drive myself into a big, black hole of nothingness? Have I conjured up a false sense of “matterness” to give myself some sort of purpose and to make me not feel so bad for how shit everything got after I left school, how I didn’t go after what I wanted and my life changed forever.
Or was I just in a rut. I mean, I had been in a little bit of a blogging rut at the time of writing. My phone broke back in May so I was completely out of whack with what I was doing, I didn’t blog in weeks or do anything remotely blogging related. It’s was hard to get back into it but slowly but surly, I did. I wonder whether my thoughts about this will change now I’m back in Super-Jenny mode or whether me being super productive is just another way for me to dull this feeling.
And of course, I’ve not looked over the fact that comparison can have a huge impact on us and how we view ourselves and what we do. No, I might not be a successful actress, having played one of the most famous parts up the West End and now landed myself a role on TV, are financially secure, have a fiancé and a house and aren’t riddled with anxiety every day. I’m no where near that. But, have I made some small impact? Somewhere?
I guess all of this has just left me feeling very small and wondering what the point is. This all sounds very morbid and depressing, I know but as predicated, getting it written down really has released something. And at least I may be able to get some other people’s insight into it in the comments. I can’t be the only person who has felt this way, albeit only temporarily.