It’s sad when you realize that all your efforts only helped change how you feel about yourself, and nobody notices. They still think so, even with no prior notice.
It was then that I accepted myself for being like that. I knew it was bad, and I tried breaking out of it. I thought I did but to no avail! Results may vary.
Perhaps my own individualism is too strongly rooted in me. I’m trying to sell out, with the gag reflex coming right after, but I wonder if it’s all in my head. So all the accomplishments I intended to have were illusions in my introspection. I’m not different from before or any better to any of you.
It’s like dreaming that I’ve climbed out of the well. Or how you’re lying down in bed, and your muscle twitches, and you think you got up.
It’s frustating. When I get into one of these introspective thinking loops, I truly feel like what I’m doing at the moment (say walking around town alone) is meaningless.
What’s worse now is that I realize that I’ve become good at adapting bad traits of others. Fickleness. Hard-headedness. Stinginess. Others used to point out those evils in other people, and I would whole-heartedly agree. G would b***h about H and I would agree with G. I would psyche myself not to inherit H‘s traits. Then I’d realize that I had those same hate-able traits as H, but not from H, but other people totally unrelated to H. My friends were dirty as well. Perhaps then I could relate to H. Of course, G is still drumming in my ears, and I now hate my own traits that I tried so hard not to have.
I can relate to a guy that everybody hates for his traits. They haven’t realized that I was once like him. They don’t hate me in the same way because I had a few years of experience and unnecessary authority.
Insecurity is ironic. It makes me try to break out, but it’s the same thing that draws me back to my roots. I’m too chicken poop to progress and expand. All I wanna be is appreciated, and not in the regular cheap fondness way. If I believed in God, or somebody who had unconditional love, maybe I’d be happy. The scientist in me denies me that cheap illusion.
Perhaps I’m spoilt. I know I’m appreciated somewhat, but I don’t appreciate their appreciation as much as I should.
Then again, who are my friends? Why do I go to them? Some are for purely materialistic reasons. The dude has cool toys. The dude has a car. The dude can go out at night. The dude has a new joke every day. The dude updates me on our interests. In a sense, they are more of business partners.
What do I have to offer?