“A day spent normally” is not a coincidence

“I feel a little relieved on days I can spend normally.”



I feel a little relieved on “days I can spend normally.” No forgotten items.
No causing trouble for anyone.

No special failures.

When I get home at night and sit on the sofa,

I feel relieved, thinking,

“Ah, today is over.”

I used to think that was natural.

But lately, it’s a little different.



I’ve come to think that what I took for granted might actually be built upon many small things.

Before leaving the house, I check things many times. Keys.



Wallet.

Smartphone.

Lately, I even check my mobile battery.

Even though I checked once,

I feel anxious after walking a few steps out the door.



“Wait, did I lock the door?”

Even though I’m sure I checked just a moment ago... In fact, because I have the memory of checking, there are times when I don’t know if I really checked.

It’s not worth going back...

But I can’t feel at ease either...

I head to the station carrying that half-hearted anxiety.
The day before a trip is even harder...

Packing my bags.



Closing them.


Opening them again.



“Did I put the charger in?”

“No, I feel like I did.”“But it’s faster to just look.”



I repeat that kind of exchange by myself... And although I feel relieved after checking,

a few hours later I’m thinking about the same thing again...

I sometimes think I have a troublesome personality...



“You worry too much.”

I’ve been told that before, and
I think so myself, too.
But I just can’t stop...


Probably because it’s been like this for a long time.


As for the trigger... it was probably...


When I was in elementary school.

It was an afternoon class.

The outside of the window was bright, and I could hear someone’s voice from the schoolyard.

The classroom was quiet...

Only the sound of the teacher’s chalk running across the blackboard echoed.

I was looking at the clock more than the lesson content.

...I wanted to go to the restroom...

But I couldn’t raise my hand.



Thinking about it now, it’s strange.

It’s just a matter of asking the teacher,
“May I go to the restroom?”
But for me at that time,

that was a very difficult thing to do.
I felt like everyone’s eyes were on me all at once.

I was embarrassed to be the center of the teacher’s attention...

And I was worried about stopping the flow of the classroom...

“Just a little longer.”



I thought that.

I just had to hold it until recess.

Ten more minutes.

Five more minutes.

Just a little longer.

Every time I looked at the clock, I told myself that.

Moving my feet under the desk.



Changing my posture.

Looking down at my notebook to distract myself.

I think I was desperate in my own elementary school way.

But that

“little longer”seemed to be longer than I thought for the elementary school me. By the time I realized it, it was already...

—

What I still remember is what happened after that.

Looking only at the floor.

My face being hot.

Not being able to make eye contact with anyone.

Thinking about how I could make this moment disappear.

—

I don’t have any memories of being scolded harshly by anyone.

But for me, it was a major incident.

I think it was probably the first time in my life

that I strongly tasted the emotion of

“shame.”

—

And at the same time,



“If I had been more careful, I might have been able to prevent it.”I also thought that.

Of course, I understand now.



Maybe there was no need to make an elementary school student think that way.

Maybe it was a story that could have ended with “that was embarrassing.”

But the me at that time



could not think that way.

—

From that day on, little by little,



I became a person whostays ahead of things. Looking at questions I might be asked in advance.



Preparing in advance if I’m entrusted with something.

Checking many times before a trip.



So I don’t fail.So I don’t feel embarrassed.

So I don’t feel anxious.

That’s how I’ve spent my time.



Of course, I still fail even then.



I still forget things.

There are times when things don’t go well even after I’ve prepared.

At those times, I think,





“Then, what was all that checking for?”But strangely,

I check again next time.



There’s something I realized recently...

Maybe I didn’t want to eliminate failure.





Maybe I didn’t want to eliminate failure.
Maybe I just wanted to reduce my anxiety a little.

Going out normally. Talking to people normally. Laughing normally. Coming home normally.



I used to think of that as



“a day with nothing happening.”





But is that really the case? Checking the keys. Checking for forgotten items. Checking the time. Feeling a little anxious.



Checking again.



At the end of a day spent like that,

maybe I am just saying



“nothing happened.”





Perhaps,

on days when nothing happened,
I might have been checking many things in places that couldn’t be seen.Every time I was told,



“You worry too much,”

I felt a little down.

If only I could live more carefree. If only I could be a person who doesn’t worry. I’ve thought that before. But lately, my way of thinking has changed just a little.



People who worry too much

might be people who don’t let anything happen.





I check because I get anxious.

I can feel at ease because I check.

I can move forward because I can feel at ease.







That might not be a cool way to live.

I don’t think it’s very efficient either.



Even so, I feel like there were things I



definitely protected by doing that.



I think I will continue to check.

Looking at the keys.



Looking at my belongings.

Feeling a little anxious.
And moving forward again. I don’t know if it will be okay. I might feel just as anxious tomorrow.



Even so, when it becomes night,



“Ah, I was able to spend today normally.”



If I can think that,



within that “normal,”





there might be a pile of checks and preparations that I don’t even notice myself. Maybe it’s because of the small daily accumulations that it stands as normal. Strictly speaking, being normal might not be normal.

A life spent moving forward while checking, even if you fail sometimes, is surely not bad.

I should just grow from that as experience.

Lately, that is how I feel.