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YARM (Yet Another ReMaster)
It has occurred to me that most of the major aspects of my life, particularly in regards to my personality and interests, are the opposite of what traits I previously had (once upon a time…) If only so many things had not happened- if God….fate– whatever you want to call it- left my life alone, I would have been happy. But there’s so many what-ifs in life, and the way things turned out would have inevitably happened sooner or later. My inherent curiosity guaranteed it. But I can say with a terrifying certainty that the person I am right now is not me. The person that I am now, is a defensive shell that exists to deal with the reality that I cannot accept– will not accept. Ultimately, reality is the extension of the self– so the reason that I cannot accept reality, is because I cannot accept myself; I hate myself.
Once upon a time, I was optimistic, romantic, artistic, creative, naive, honest, humble, affectionate, impressionable, shy, immature, innocent, simple-minded, and most importantly, happy. Now I’m cynical, skeptical, logical, analytical, uptight, mature, talkative, extroverted, obstinate, conceited, withdrawn, antisocial, paranoid, stressed-out, complicated, and almost always depressed on some level
I’ve corrupted myself in ways that I dare not discuss, as well as most ways common to man. One upon a time, I was perfect. But I unfortunately could not appreciate this until I had sinned against myself, over and over again. It took an extreme level of imperfection to realize what I had- what I had lost.
Not knowing any better (naturally), I blamed myself those few years ago, believing that I was at fault, that I had hurt other people. I wanted to change – to understand what I had done wrong. Back then, I didn’t know what I did wrong, but when I considered the circumstances, I figured it had to be something really bad. I knew that for someone as young as I was to be threatened with a restraining order [link to Power of Parenting], it must have been something terrible.
But in retrospect, I didn’t do anything wrong- they were in the wrong. I guess I was just too busy hating myself to notice.
I can only continue on with life because I’m not honest with myself; who would want to even associate with someone who doesn’t want anything to to with himself?
What I didn’t realize, too, is that by hating myself, I’m hating everything that I was once attached to- this world, my reality, my friends, and my family; the last of these is of particular significance. Previously, I had known without a doubt that my detachment from all my family members was due to the passage of time, and traumatic experiences and circumstances beyond my control. But deep down, I should have known better. There have, after all, been countless individuals who have been separated from their family for longer, and gone through far worse family trauma.
The detachment is my fault – there was no bonding because I had rejected it; and to further complicate things, until now I have been in denial of that rejection.
So here I am, having now been awakened to my real dilemma, and in transition from the narrow-minded former reality to the reality that I can share with the world and self that will be me. The self that I will learn to love.
November 3, 2009 at 12:48 pm
When we hate ourselves, it is often because our behavior is inconstant with what we want ourselves to be. So, the best thing to do is to always try to do our best. That way, we will have fewer regrets.
friendle2@ That would be the most obvious solution, but unfortunately easier said than done. Humans are inherently imperfect, and I far more than others because of how I have striven to complicate things (complexity is the root of imperfection).
For this reason, I lack the ability to do my best, because I get lost in my own reality in the process, because I am too complicated for
myself.
I sometimes wish that I could be someone’s slave, because in such a scenario, the self would become irrelevant (no free will), and so I would be “free” to do my best, because I would not be limited by my pride.
In that sense. my inability to do my best is ironic, in that the reason is what in fact would normally be the motivator for one to do their best in the first place: Pride.
November 4, 2009 at 12:58 pm
Just curious: Do you think that is it somehow possible for you to let go of your pride, and then begin working on doing your best?
friendle2@ that remains to be seen. As detailed in my Prelude post, it is my intention to finish up what remaining writing that I have not yet typed/published, at which point th3g1vr will remain as-is until further notice.
I will still continue work on essenceofthesoul however, as it’s more evident to me that, spiritual implications aside, it is a work of fiction.
By ceasing all work on th3g1vr, I will (hopefully) kill the part of myself that is associated with th3g1vr, and as this is the primary source of my pride, it should allow me to perform a controlled Ego death; from there, the possibilities are boundless.