I really would like to believe no one will or ought to feel like this but the reality is in everyone’s life, there is this one time when they realise who they are. Films, books and popular culture celebrate this awakening of self in many great stories. But rarely to people celebrate what happens after. What if you realise who you are and realise oh shit, this is really ugly. What if who you are is a vast difference from what who you thought you would be. Confining to society’s version of an ideal person is convoluted But that realisation that I am not who I thought I would turn out to be at 26, bewilders and eventually terrifies you.
You are your judge and you worst critic. Why am I like this? Why has this not happened to me yet? Why do I have these mounds of fat? Why is all my hair grey? Why have I not found one right member of the opposite sex and not taken those seven circles around the marriage pyre? These are questions your society will ask you. But that is far less harmful than the time you begin asking your self that.
As people turn older, everyone is their own mess. This is not saying everyone is below you but you can see everyone has their own demons. As a child you were afraid to sleep because of nightmares. Now you are afraid to stay up because of the monsters around you when you are awake. These monsters are mostly within you, never cease to leave you alone completely.
The fight to be you is one you fight with the world. The fight that this is you is something you are at war with every second of your life within yourself. Those who have what you desire have their own problems whether you know of them or not, but their problems look better than yours. You go through phases where you trap yourself in the corner of your room screaming and crying saying I will be anyone except me, please take me away.
After a long war, there is a low point you touch called hopelessness. You give up. You realise this is who you are and endless crying and cursing will never change that. I do understand somethings can change, but you realise there is something which is inherently you which you just can’t. What happens after?
Do you forgive yourself, hug you and tell yourself, “it is ok, you are who you are and I will eventually learn to love you”? Do you just give up and hurl yourself of a building? Do you hope and pray that you can’t bring yourself to like you but maybe someone else will someday?
Life really didn’t turn out the way you thought it would. Everyone else seems to get what you wanted for yourself. You are left completely confused because nothing around you went as planned. Do you still plan? Do you let it be? Do you still cry? Do you talk?
What does one do?