B3: My therapist is a Sponge
I am just as emotionally inconsistent as any other person, and I take some boosters once in a while. Not the illegal kind, but the type that makes you feel better and resets your psyche for the day. That booster is what I am gonna be writing about today.
Sometimes, waking up late, bedrotting, or missing out on a planned activity can pin your morale down to the basement. Today was a weekend. I woke up late, didn’t brush my teeth or wash my face, and walked up to the water purifier to drink some water. I caught my reflection in its glossy plastic and realised I looked shady. Probably because I hadn’t groomed myself, but it still hits you and makes you feel phooey.
Then I came back and doom-scrolled my way into the afternoon, mentally clouded and unmotivated.
Now, a sensible person would try talking to someone or seeing a therapist, but I have my hobbies to support me. I get up, pick the most mindless task, and try to perform it to perfection. I fold my laundry, clear my desk, and wash my shoes. I wash the utensils. I keep washing until I see the silver shine spotlessly. And steadily, I start to feel my thoughts getting organised too. They streamline into a single problem at a time. Just like me and my sponge, scrubbing away one stain at a time until everything is perfectly clean. (I do have OCD, so it gives me immense satisfaction too.)
But this makes me feel everyone should have hobbies. Not writing, painting, or singing, but hobbies you can perform when you’re angry, mad, tired, or simply bored. Mundane hobbies have the best potential to cure your overthinking. And you’ll finally be able to make your parents proud by doing some chores, too. Win-win, I say.
Get Aryan Vijaykumar’s stories in your inbox
Join Medium for free to get updates from this writer.
Some days, it might be watching your favourite YouTube video and grabbing some aloo bhujia. But even that won’t motivate you as consistently as a stubborn stain and a piece of sponge. Because they’re really good at their jobs.
The stain’s job is to stay, and the sponge’s job is to remove it. The sponge doesn’t think about whether it’s hurting the stain or whether the stain will be missed once it’s gone. It makes you realise how much we overthink things that just aren’t that serious. Sometimes, they’re just stains that need to be washed off once in a while.
Enough philosophy for today. Till the next blog, it’s me and my sponge against my anxiety.
Stay tuned to see if I survive. Hahahah. Peace.
Thankx for reading!







