Sometimes I know that I isolate myself for no good reason. Like tonight. There's a family dinner at a restaurant; I had a case of the runs in the morning and have somewhat recovered from it. But I just don't want to go- either because of the lame conversation or the carnivorous food. And so I am staying at home, until I fall asleep. Of course, dinner is at 10, so at least I have one redeeming fact.
I can't believe that I'm coming to the conclusion that my dad's part in my becoming this unbearable neurotic was much more insidious than it seems on the surface. You'd think us being in two different continents would keep this bond weak. But he's the one who forced me to take Accounting at A Level (which I dropped halfway because I just could NOT understand the damned theories and formulae) - I ended up taking English and Psychology. Fair enough. Six years down the road, I make the same mistake of 'wanting' to become a teacher because he said that's what I could do. So I spend $200 CDN on the applications and the sole interview, only to finally realise two months later that I seriously had no desire whatsoever do follow that dream - whether of mother or of father.
And now I feel guilty at being here and 'doing nothing', on the surface. To compare myself to everyone else who has their life on track or at least are moving to silence the emptiness. I've never really been encouraged to have faith in my own instincts or intuition or whatever. I always doubt myself - and the critique coming from all these typecast Guardians and Artisans makes me feel so 'wrong' - however, I am more accepting of others not having a clear path, but that's only now, when I am going through this that I can sympathise.
They are criticising me for having no passion, no goal, no gumption, for being risk-averse, too picky, too idealistic, too lazy, too unsure of myself, succumbing to the pill cure for my invented depressive disease, changing my mind more frequently than I change my clothes, living in the past, focusing too much on an unfathomable future, being wishy-washy in what I want, not knowing what I want or how to go about achieving it, for not being a 'success', for succumbing to the weak side of my human nature.
They may not say it aloud, but that's what I feel inside - I am full of all these external judgements that I never learnt how to listen to my inner compass. Why on earth did he (PBUH) say "I am the Outer Prophet, sent to awaken the Inner Prophet" if we didn't have an inner compass, the ruh that would guide us after scraping off all the muck and rust and wanton desires and illusions and standards. And in this way, I judge not only myself harshly, but others too.
Unfortunately, I am now so engrossed about the internal process that everything outside of me seems dream-like and something I, for the meantime, do not want to be a part of. I can't seem to get out of this self-made bubble.
People whom I imagined to be so close to me were really only as close as I imagined them to be. The affection I held for certain people has slowly wafted away. I'm going through all sorts of transformations but won't ever be static and it's going to require patience to deal with it all.
Something I shout out aloud one day, is something I completely disagree with, or am indifferent to a year on. Is it really worth it, having this so-called sensitivity and authenticity rather than being a fox or a beaver? Dolphins have no real purpose, do they?
I can't believe that I'm coming to the conclusion that my dad's part in my becoming this unbearable neurotic was much more insidious than it seems on the surface. You'd think us being in two different continents would keep this bond weak. But he's the one who forced me to take Accounting at A Level (which I dropped halfway because I just could NOT understand the damned theories and formulae) - I ended up taking English and Psychology. Fair enough. Six years down the road, I make the same mistake of 'wanting' to become a teacher because he said that's what I could do. So I spend $200 CDN on the applications and the sole interview, only to finally realise two months later that I seriously had no desire whatsoever do follow that dream - whether of mother or of father.
And now I feel guilty at being here and 'doing nothing', on the surface. To compare myself to everyone else who has their life on track or at least are moving to silence the emptiness. I've never really been encouraged to have faith in my own instincts or intuition or whatever. I always doubt myself - and the critique coming from all these typecast Guardians and Artisans makes me feel so 'wrong' - however, I am more accepting of others not having a clear path, but that's only now, when I am going through this that I can sympathise.
They are criticising me for having no passion, no goal, no gumption, for being risk-averse, too picky, too idealistic, too lazy, too unsure of myself, succumbing to the pill cure for my invented depressive disease, changing my mind more frequently than I change my clothes, living in the past, focusing too much on an unfathomable future, being wishy-washy in what I want, not knowing what I want or how to go about achieving it, for not being a 'success', for succumbing to the weak side of my human nature.
They may not say it aloud, but that's what I feel inside - I am full of all these external judgements that I never learnt how to listen to my inner compass. Why on earth did he (PBUH) say "I am the Outer Prophet, sent to awaken the Inner Prophet" if we didn't have an inner compass, the ruh that would guide us after scraping off all the muck and rust and wanton desires and illusions and standards. And in this way, I judge not only myself harshly, but others too.
Unfortunately, I am now so engrossed about the internal process that everything outside of me seems dream-like and something I, for the meantime, do not want to be a part of. I can't seem to get out of this self-made bubble.
People whom I imagined to be so close to me were really only as close as I imagined them to be. The affection I held for certain people has slowly wafted away. I'm going through all sorts of transformations but won't ever be static and it's going to require patience to deal with it all.
Something I shout out aloud one day, is something I completely disagree with, or am indifferent to a year on. Is it really worth it, having this so-called sensitivity and authenticity rather than being a fox or a beaver? Dolphins have no real purpose, do they?
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