Impulsive Actions

I love coffee mugs

Do I like coffee?

Or tea?

Or anything in between?

Well no

No I don’t like coffee for my coffee mugs

And I don’t drink tea in the afternoon

And I won’t pour hot chocolate either


So why do I want these mugs?

I like the designs

I like the pretty colors

And I like the idea of them


They bring me joy even if I have no use for them

So I’ll continue to collect mugs that will soon start to collect dust



I love getting packages in the mail

I don’t need these things

I could spend my money on something more important

Like food

Or my future


But here I am scrolling

Trying to find a sticker that I’ll put in my drawer and never look at again

Or a pair of shoes that I love the idea of but will never wear

Maybe even a hat because it’s cute no?

Of course it is

But am I going to wear it?

Well no

Because I don’t like hats


And yet here I am buying things off the internet for a little joy that won’t last more than a week



I love my friends

There’s no argument about that

But I often wonder if they love me back

Or if they like talking to me the way I like talking to them

So I’ll isolate myself

I won’t reach out

I won’t text first


And that’s okay

Because maybe this will bring me a little joy

A little relief so I don’t have to worry about the friendships that won’t last forever

The love that won’t last forever



It’s strange

Isn’t it?

How I do these things because I like the idea of joy

I like the idea of happiness

But really my bad mood

And my poor mental health is a result of these little things

These little things that_ _are supposed to_ bring me joy _


Hm

Okay

But I’m looking at these mugs that fill my cabinets and I can’t help but feel stupid for wasting my money on something I’ll never use


I look at my shoes I’ll never wear and feel guilty for buying them and not being responsible with my money


And I look at my friends after isolating and realize that I’m the reason we’re drifting apart



I often do things with good intentions

To make myself feel better

But maybe

Maybe I’m destroying my life without realizing it

Maybe _I’m_ the reason why every time I feel happy

I start to feel horrible

And i feel as if I’ve just taken ten steps back in my life

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