Ophelia
Ophelia accomplishment stories
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marisalaurine
marisalaurineCommunity member
Autoplay OFF  •  9 months ago
Ophelia is an 18 year old girl, desperately trying to follow her dream of becoming a known writer in New York. However, Ophelia lives her live in mental distress. Negative thoughts follow her like a lost puppy.
Will Ophelia find a way to overcome her fears and finally become her own?

Ophelia

Ophelia

7:42 AM, it's tuesday, I don't like tuesdays.Tuesdays remind me, of a long and dreadful week. I guess one might think I like Fridays better. I don't.

Fridays remind me, of a short weekend and an even longer week ahead of me. I am positive I can switch everything into negative. I refer to myself as a basket case.

7:44 AM, I stare at my watch, I am impatient. I literally watch the seconds go by, and as I drift off into my daily phantasies, I hear a voice, which seems to come from the back of my head.

I look up. First I face a confused but also very tired salesman gazing at me.

Then I take a look over my shoulder, where I unwillingly look into a man's face, although it seems like more of a frown.

I look up, then down, then up again analyzing his outer appearance which, I must say, made a much better first impression than his appearance personality wise.

His suit was blue, with a white shirt beneath it. I could tell the suit was made well. The seems were sown together perfectly. The man looked wealthy, nevertheless did it impress me much.

It was rather his steep and raspy voice yelling directly at me, from behind, because I was the next one in line. His facial expressions gave him away completely. I could read him like Dr.

Seuss. I prefer people who are hard to read, like Ulysses by James Joyce. Unfortunately he was the easy kind, like a children's book.

Although we all were waiting in the same line for the same food, he still felt like he was better than most of the other people at the donut shop. Chin up, and nose up.

Hierarchy was his best friend.

I knew my advantage and position in this situation, and if he really wanted to believe any of the hierarchy-crap, I was far above him, because I had him figured out.

5 minutes have passed since my encounter with him. I finally got my chocolate glazed Donut and I am wandering the streets again, drifting off, into my daydreams.

My daydreams contain my real dreams, the things I wish to accomplish and the things I may never accomplish. I draw a line between negative and positive “travels”.

Most of them are negative, because as vulnerable as this makes me sound, I have confidence issues. I don't like to think of me as an accomplisher.

I rather think of me as a failure, so that when I accomplish something, which is of great importance to me,

I am much happier than to accomplish something I would have already expected to succeed in. I think it makes perfect sense to me, although most people say I sound completely unreasonable.

I have gotten the word “unreasonable” so many times in my life now, I believe I stopped counting by the age of 14.

At night, before sleep, I laid awake a lot trying to find the reason behind the way I see life. I was not successful… obviously.

Essentially I blamed myself. I am 18 now, and decided to stop telling people my way of thinking. I tell them occasionally, I like their confused and judgmental facial expressions.

My train of thought is not necessarily wrong, it just differentiates from most people's. People these days are too narrow minded for my taste.

What is a dreamer? “A person who is unpractical or idealistic” . I think these two words describe me quintessential.

My dreams or as I like to call them “travels” are my most sacred and secret possessions. My “travels” remind me of a world outside of reality.

They allow me to express myself without having to change for others. My world is a mixture of reality and phantasy. I don't mean phantasy in a science fiction-way.

There are no flying horses or trolls roaming around the city in my world. Phantasies to me, are rather my goals I even find too idealistic.

I not only divide my travels into negative and positive, I also calculate the possibility in percentage of reaching my goals .

Thus, my phantasies are goals where there is not even a 1% chance of accomplishing them. I must sound pretty mental to you but that's my way.

I would like to be a successful writer, I would like to inspire others with my work, of course this dream is definitely categorized as a phantasy.

I don't believe in myself, but much more in others. I put their needs before mine.

My goal in life is to make people happy, and in this case, making people happy by publishing novels is a priority of mine.

8 am I am at work, I don’t work, I dream. Yes, I want to be a writer. I want to live in New York, walk across the streets, and knowing I have accomplished my biggest triumph. Will it happen? No.

Because i have calculated exactly every little step for me to get there.. And well, the chances are slim to none, which makes it a phantasy during my travels, because is is not real.

My mind compares to a teenagers bedroom; a mess.

I get nervous around people. Especially when I am surrounded by them. It feels like im suffocating, desperately trying to catch a breath of air. I like to compare such particular situations to a forest. I am standing there, lost, surrounded by trees, a lot of trees, and they all look the same.

When it rains, it pours, they say. So when everything gets too much, I close my eyes, and imagine myself standing alone somewhere, where no one can find me. When everything gets too much, I close my eyes, and imagine myself standing alone somewhere, where no one can find me. I like to be alone, it helps me cope with the negativity and anxiety I feel all the time.

Although I mentioned, i have learned to live with it, it sometimes gets too my head. My thoughts, travels and essentially the phantasies get too strong, and my mind won't leave me alone. Overthinking is my way of thinking. My mind is so loud, it sometimes sounds like a constant sirene airing through my brain, like it were on fire.

I close my eyes, shut down my hearing and imagine myself somewhere beautiful, an incredible and quiet landscape. A place just for me, a place, where I can pay attention to every ever so tiny detail. Like the mist on the grass, the fog essentially developing and cover the land with a soft and light blanket. I listen to the birds singing and communicating.

As soon as I am calm enough, I reopen my eyes, and accept the situation as it is, because I know, whenever i feel overwhelmed i can travel there, and it will be fine again. It is my secret place, only I know of it, and no one can take that away from me. Its like Nania, of course, with the only exception, that this place is not actually real, it only exists in my head.

My current workplace is at a restaurant. I waitress. It is not my dream job, for obvious reasons. I don't like the interaction with people. I also don't like, that they get to eat all the delicious food, that I can't even afford in the first place!

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