I am my worst enemy.
Time and again, I’ve had these bouts of insecurity and consequentially suffer from sporadic fits of depression. I say it is envy - pure, green and puerile envy.
In worst cases, I’d grit my teeth and pull out my hair in dire frustration. I’d lash out to all people, family and friends, and would intentionally annoy them. I’d go berserk with bitterness and self-pity. And through all these, I’d feel none the better. I’d feel worse and painfully bear my moods.
I can’t say when this has started. More and more I think it is a part of me, like a growing tumor that slowly kills all the living matter in its surrounds. With every attack, my reaction grows much worse and more fatal than the last. From short breaks, I could see that I become more lethargic and that I freely surrender. And the instinct to fight back, the basic instinct to survive, wanes.
I fear for the time that I’d not only become cynic, but grow to be misanthropic - that to trust my feelings, my life, to another person would only be suicide. I am wary of the time, that the notion of human goodness and sincerity becomes only one of the things parents teach to children and that are actually irrelevant to the real world. I fear that I’d at last harbor an ill-feeling and deep-seated hatred towards all mankind, and I’d only see ulterior motives and selfish actions behind supposedly good deeds. And the term good deeds become an oxymoron and a mockery of sorts.
But they say, as a person grows older, he transcends his juvenile idealism and that from it, he rather sees the disillusionment, jaded from hurtful experiences of the past.
However, a flicker hope still lingers.
I know I am hurting, and I am the sole reason behind this pain. I thrust the knife into my own heart, impaling myself and draining all there is that’s hopeful.
And I can not, for every good that’s left on earth, allow this pain to poison my being and lord over my body as one does with a minion or a slave. As I see my life slowly being drained out of me, I must fight back and learn to hold onto the littlest that’s dear to my heart.
I still have a heart, yes. Although a part of it seems irreparably decaying, I know I have to believe. I’d fight for this battle headstrong, and win it – all of it.
I may be my worst enemy but I’m also my greatest savior.
Time and again, I’ve had these bouts of insecurity and consequentially suffer from sporadic fits of depression. I say it is envy - pure, green and puerile envy.
In worst cases, I’d grit my teeth and pull out my hair in dire frustration. I’d lash out to all people, family and friends, and would intentionally annoy them. I’d go berserk with bitterness and self-pity. And through all these, I’d feel none the better. I’d feel worse and painfully bear my moods.
I can’t say when this has started. More and more I think it is a part of me, like a growing tumor that slowly kills all the living matter in its surrounds. With every attack, my reaction grows much worse and more fatal than the last. From short breaks, I could see that I become more lethargic and that I freely surrender. And the instinct to fight back, the basic instinct to survive, wanes.
I fear for the time that I’d not only become cynic, but grow to be misanthropic - that to trust my feelings, my life, to another person would only be suicide. I am wary of the time, that the notion of human goodness and sincerity becomes only one of the things parents teach to children and that are actually irrelevant to the real world. I fear that I’d at last harbor an ill-feeling and deep-seated hatred towards all mankind, and I’d only see ulterior motives and selfish actions behind supposedly good deeds. And the term good deeds become an oxymoron and a mockery of sorts.
But they say, as a person grows older, he transcends his juvenile idealism and that from it, he rather sees the disillusionment, jaded from hurtful experiences of the past.
However, a flicker hope still lingers.
I know I am hurting, and I am the sole reason behind this pain. I thrust the knife into my own heart, impaling myself and draining all there is that’s hopeful.
And I can not, for every good that’s left on earth, allow this pain to poison my being and lord over my body as one does with a minion or a slave. As I see my life slowly being drained out of me, I must fight back and learn to hold onto the littlest that’s dear to my heart.
I still have a heart, yes. Although a part of it seems irreparably decaying, I know I have to believe. I’d fight for this battle headstrong, and win it – all of it.
I may be my worst enemy but I’m also my greatest savior.
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I am presently envious of my friend and his ever gorgeous boyfriend. Their presence constantly reminds me of my non-existent lovelife. Grrr.
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Lifted from www.peyups.com
Personal Thoughts : My Enemy, My Savior
Contributed by irvin (Edited by amplifier)
Wednesday, September 24, 2003 @ 12:20:47 PM
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