Skip to main content

Nr. 37

I had a small epiphany tonight. I was questioning what kind of person I am and I didn’t really have an answer. When I was young I was full of ambition and optimism, bordering on privileged arrogance in hindsight really. As I grew older my aspirations of advancing in any of my selected fields of creative communication was failing (at least in my opinion), I started a tenacious self examination. I discovered empathy based on logic and altruistic intent. This was a driving force for years up until recently. I started questioning if I had egotistical ulterior motifs and if I really was a good person. Quite frankly I don’t really know if I am. The insecurity that has been rooted deep within me for so long has had a far greater longevity than I could ever imagine or foresee. I’ve wobbled between self hatred and inflated self worth. I was convinced I could intellectually overcome any shortcomings I had and use my insight to help people, but in reality I think I just wanted to help myself. I’m not empathetic, at least not enough to be a good and kind person. 
So in my moment of clarity (I think I might’ve jumped on the term ‘epiphany’ prematurely) I saw the standard I’ve put myself up against: my biased opinion of how good of a person my Mother was. I’ve guided myself towards an unattainable standard of kindness in her memory. My mother wasn’t flawless, but she _was_ both kind and selfless, far more than I could ever dream of. However, my own delusional idea of the level she was at is most likely way beyond what was real. 

I’m not sure where this will lead me, but I did feel that I managed to come a bit closer to uncover the core of me. Not that that there is a figurative single core that explains everything, but perhaps I’m soon able to understand a glimmer of what’s wrong with me and why I act and think the way I do. Like an artichoke I feel I peel one astounding layer after the other, yet I fear, much like a real artichoke, that my core isn’t really worth the work I put in and I sort of taste way too bland compared to how expensive I am. I’m overpriced. I’m not even that fond of artichokes!

I understand that my perfectionism is lurking in the shadows here, this entire post is seething with self criticism. But the way I see it is that even if I’m way too harsh on myself; I’m not wrong. There are many things that’s wrong with me (and I’m not saying I’m the worst), but I’m trying really hard to be gentler with myself. And realizing my high standard partially comes from my own distorted idea of goodness applied to my Mother, I think, is a step in regaining some rationality. 


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