Charlotte Meier

The Chronicles of a Lost Time Traveller

Staring at the clock again... it’s 1am and I am beyond frustrated. I keep telling myself this gift is something to be grateful for, and yet I feel nothing but apathy and depression. Nothing ever seems to be worth the effort anymore. If I could explain what it feels like to relive moments in time, no one would dare wish this gift on their worst enemy. It sucks the joy out of every present moment because you already know the outcome of every possible action. It creates dissonance between you and your friends because no one understands (let alone believes you) when you say you’re stuck in dejavú. It makes you look like a lunatic with a poor memory because you either didn’t respond because you thought you already did or you have to constantly ask if you have already told this same story before. Who would want to read the same story twice!? I apparently am not one of those people. I despise reruns. No matter how hard I try to be spontaneous, I’m doubly reminded that my own conscious choices are not actually mine. I have no control in this life. Now, most people might actually be ok with that concept, but for me, it makes every single day and waking hour a bore. To lose the ability to artfully create the life of your dreams is like being thrown into the padded room at the psychiatric ward. You’re locked in, but you can’t escape, oh and just in case you forgot... no one can hear your cries for help. There are very little options when in this space. You could have a childhood temper tantrum and display the full range of human emotion... or you could sleep.