Skip to main content

Nr. 20

One of the many things that changed within me when my sister died was a drastic increase of empathy and emotional awareness. Her death forced me into a situation where I had to feel, think and overcome. Many times I have despised the way I was before she died. Immature, unaware, and selfish. However, I have lately tried to see if my perfectionism -which grew exponentially either because of my depression or my ferocious search for self awareness- has clouded my judgment of my younger self. I’m not after vindication, I am still objective enough to know all the negative things I did still counts and that I am ultimately responsible for my actions. But I have heard in recent years from childhood friends and classmates that they remembered me as kind and creative. So maybe I wasn’t the unintelligent and reckless monster my mind remembers. Maybe my mind has constructed a distorted version where I amplify the negative and suppress the positive. Just like perfectionism would. I’m not saying I was a good person, there are plenty of things I did or said in my teen years which would qualify me to be a racist, bigot, sexist idiot. Although I don’t think my values were ever prone to be like that. Like most racists or sexists it stems from a lack of moral awareness due to insecurities and a twisted view on how to impress the pack of other immature men. 

I think this observance of going from immature to aware has festered itself as a belief that people can change. And it gives me some sense of hope that I will be ok. Maybe ‘change’ is the wrong word, I think I’ll go with learn. 

Heightened awareness did play its part in my depression, but I think it’s also what will ultimately help me get out of it as well. I feel I’ve been fighting so hard to keep myself rational and sane when my ‘lows’ hit me. Too occupied of saving myself and analyzing how incredibly irrational and at fault I am, I forgot that I am actually quite capable. That every day I wake up after a low is a result of how my awareness saved me the night before. People say I should be kind to myself, and they are right regarding my incessant self criticism, but I need to understand that I have actually been kind to myself all along, at my core. 


Maybe I’m not the worst after all. 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Nr. 60

Next month I’m attending a wedding. I’ve been so busy thinking about practical things (like finding a suit to wear and what to bring as it is for a weekend getaway) that I didn’t realize until now that I actually need to socialize. Meaning talk about my current situation. I’m officially on sick leave due to depression which isn’t really the most festive conversation starter at a wedding (or any event really). As much as I really want to celebrate my friends getting married, I simultaneously feel stressed as to have I’m gonna phrase this. I know there are people out there with far greater difficulties than me, even within my friend circle probably, which makes me even more frustrated about my worry. I’m positive I will get through it of course. I even know despite my definite self torment of reviewing my ‘performance’ I will get by.  But I still feel slightly anxious about it. I used to be ok attending events with strangers when I could smalltalk about my work and then swiftly...
Post a Comment
Read more

Nr. 64

Nr. 64 I’ve known for quite some time now how little I care about myself. It’s one of the reasons why I had no problem giving everything of myself to others, as I feel I have nothing worth saving for myself (which has opened my eyes to one big reason why my relationships hasn’t work out, but that’s another story). It sounds awfully self pitying, except that I don’t really feel sorry for myself nor do expect others to either. I can change the way I think about or view myself, but that would be trying to mask or bypass what’s objectively true. Normally I would be ok with this ridiculous dejection, but when it is combined with a ‘low’ it can turn quite unappetizing and worth hiding. I have a small core base of people willing to help me. Who are waiting for my call. Even though at this point it’s like waiting for Godot. Even my psychiatrist asked me the other day why I didn’t call when I was at my worst last week. I couldn’t really give her a good answer. Pride? Stubbornness? Or pe...
Post a Comment
Read more

Nr. 61

During yesterday’s afternoon I had to lie down to rest. I had only gotten 2 hours of sleep the night before so it was definitely needed. I woke up abruptly well into the evening from a nightmare. Or it wasn’t so much of a nightmare as much as a psychological warp that changed how I view myself. I’m still trying to come to terms with it.  The dream had its normal amount of absurdities; I was part of a group hiding from a murderer who was hunting us. The team consisted of me, some friends of mine, Casey Neistat, Mila Kunis, and a robotic version of Hachiko. We were all hiding in this large locked down house. The murderer was in here with us. I had a gun which fired small amounts of glue, but if I did hit someone the glue would explode.  I was eventually spotted by the murderer and I fired off a serious of point blank shots to his face and neck. They exploded one by one. Nothing happened to him. We then warped into an abstract world where we would fight strategically using ...
Post a Comment
Read more