Tag Archives: aspirations

I hate myself.

I just really, really hate myself. I have a fleeting moment of confidence where I feel I’m sufficiently capable of being a grown up and then I remember that I’m awful and such a thing is indelibly unattainable.

I went back home for Christmas to spend the holiday with my family and it was the worst.  I got into it with my mother on Christmas Eve after being treated like a second rate human being compared to my siblings by both her and my dad.  Long story short I told her I’m not certain I would even come by anymore if I weren’t financially dependent on them (my parents).

Then I got home and I started to think, you know, maybe it’s really time I just settle on a life course and see where it takes me already, because my current path hit a dead end about 2-3 years ago. I started craving my hometown, and not the town my parents live in that I spent my adolescence in, but the town we relocated from to get there; the town where I spent my youth.  I haven’t been back in half a life time.  Literally.  I was 12 when we left and I turn 24 this year.  Honestly, though the move never bothered me at the time, I find myself wondering what my life would be like today had we not left.  Our family was more bonded before the move, particularly between all of us kids’ individual relationships with our dad.  Though I’m not certain that had anything to do with the move…

Anyways, my point here is that I find myself wondering lately if I would be a different person today had we stayed. I see all these people I grew up with settling into careers and living capable, fulfilling lives, and I just can’t say the same for myself.  If I stayed, would I have been influenced to pursue other hobbies growing up?  Would I have found a talent or an interest I could devote myself too?  My neighbour, a boy my sister’s age I used to play with, he’s still playing hockey 12 years later, playing for a minor league team and undoubtedly pursuing a long term career out of this.  One of my best friends growing up, a crafty girl who always loved to doodle and make art projects runs her own art store now and seems to absolutely love what she does.  Radio emcee, astrophysics, salon manager, graphic design, you name it.  Everyone I know is doing something they love, and it’s a product of years of pursuing that specific interest and making it into something they can do for a living, all the while I sit in my apartment alone wondering what my interests even are so I can do something other than hate myself.

I moved to the city to pursue laboratory sciences, and after 1 semester at University I quickly fell off that band wagon and realized I wasn’t near passionate enough to devote 4 years of my life, blood, sweat, and tears into something I chose on a whim.  However, I recently found a more comfortable program for me for the same thing at a different institution and I wonder if I should just… try again.  I think probably my rationale behind wanting to pursue such a career is that growing up, my sister’s two closest friends both had mother’s working this exact job or similar to it.  And that caters to me in the sense that I’ve always wanted to have a family of my own and I idolized both these women a lot growing up, so much so that it would almost feel fulfilling to me to pursue this in that regard.  They were both so friendly; always smiling and always so caring.  They both were ambitious and I feel they both truly have everything.  A husband, children, a career, and the patience and resilience to manage all 3 of those things without ever losing face.  I wish I could be like that so desperately…

And that brings me to today. I lost my hair ties.  “What?” you ask?  I spent like a crap ton of money on these ultra-cute hair ties for me, my sister, and my sister in law’s stocking stuffers for Christmas, and I was incredibly excited to wear mine, because I’ve been growing my hair out for what seems like forever (I had an anxiety attack and hacked off months of effort which set me back a lot) and finally I am able to tie my hair back properly.  So I go hunting for my hair ties I had last seen not 2 weeks ago… and they’re gone.  I was already running late for work today so I left in a panic and yelled at my mom over the phone to look around her house in case I left them there… nothing.  It really got to me.  It’s really getting to me.  It will really get at me in the morning.  They were one of a kind that I bought online and they’re just gone without a trace.  Then I spent 8 hours at work hating myself and hating my life because karma just really seems to dislike me and these kind of things always happen to me!  Side note: while typing this my laptop died because I unplugged it for the first time in half a decade to move my makeshift coffee table around so I could accommodate my new area rug and forgot to plug it back in…  You see??

And these things ACTUALLY FACTUALLY bother me. I mean I go ballistic and you’d think you’re witnessing someone who should be sent to an asylum.  I throw tantrums like a 2 year old and coincidentally I’ve been throwing them ever since I were 2!  I become overwhelmed with anger and hate for myself for being stupid enough to misplace something I was so excited about and I honestly feel the urge to harm myself.

What’s worse is I’ll probably call my mother again in the morning and rip her a new ass hole like she had anything to do with this at all, just because I need to scream at someone other than myself to relinquish some of my anguish.

And now I’m sitting here typing, thinking that my ever being an adult is such a farce. I’m a financial and emotional cripple.  How is someone like me supposed to go through school and practicum and 30 years of dedicated work without blowing a gasket on someone undeserving over something petty…  I don’t know that I can.

What’s holding me back the most though is my lack of motivation. What is this really all for?  At the end of the day I don’t have someone who loves me, I don’t have children who depend on me, I don’t have hobbies or friends… I have no reason to do anything more than what I’m doing right now… and that’s despairing to me.  I want more from life but I can’t achieve it.  I wouldn’t see the point if I could.

What I’ve always wanted

I am almost 22 years old.  I know, I know, that is still so young, but in the eyes of a 22 year old such as myself, I can’t help but notice how much time I’ve wasted since I graduated high school in 2010.

I’ve seen friends go through University, many of which are finishing with the next year.  I’ve seen classmates get married and have a child, some of them even two children by now!  I have seen happiness, and successes, and travels… and I have seen them all through the screen of my laptop.

I deleted my Facebook account about 6 months ago because I was sick of comparing my reality and my happiness to others.

I remember when I was still in high school, all I ever thought I wanted for myself was a husband who would love me and children I could raise and love.  But that was never enough for anybody.  All I ever heard was that I’m stupid to think I can rely on that kind of future, and that it will never happen for someone like me.  And maybe that’s true, I thought.  So eventually I guess I just let that fantasy go.  After all, it was just a fantasy.  I moved to the city and enrolled in University for a year.  Of course it never lasted, as I wasn’t happy going to school and felt aimless as I didn’t know what path I wanted to pursue.

But today, for the first time in a long time, I thought about what I wanted again.  And once again, I thought to myself that I just want to nest.

I want to build a home.  I want to kiss someone special in the morning and send them on their way.  I want to rouse his children from their beds and make their every morning special.  I want to spend my day alone, exercising, cleaning, baking–nesting.  I want to welcome a beautiful family home to their paradise every day.  Let them know I love them and embrace the knowledge that I have people to love me back.

I don’t want a lot.  I just want that.  And it’s easy for people to persuade me into believing that that is just me being lazy and wanting someone to take care of me, but I really don’t think that is what this is at all.  In fact, I know that this is what I want because it is me who wants to take care of someone.  Maybe it’s a simple dream and maybe I should expect more from myself, but this is how I picture myself when I’m at my happiest.  At home.  A home that I made for people that I love.

Tunnel Vision

There’s a light at the end of the tunnel.  Whether or not it is within sight is irrelevant–it’s just there. It’s a tunnel, and all tunnels come to an end.

The tunnel is long.  It is dank and suffocating.  It echoes the feelings I thought had come to pass, and is relentless in doing so.  There’s no escaping.  Not until I’ve found the proverbial light.

Amidst the noise of my heavy heart, I grasp desperately at the walls for any exit, any premature escape from my self-stencilled Hell.  It is dark though, unless maybe the darkness is all I can see.  Maybe my peripherals are failing me.  Maybe there is something I am missing in this tunnel–this winding, cavernous, objectified state of affairs.

Maybe I’m not in a tunnel at all.

Yet I’ve come to see that, within myself, in this very moment, I am on a set course.  I see only one motive of circumstance in my life; I follow it blindly, aimlessly, yet distinctly.  Everything else is a fog of deceit.

The life I am leading–no, the life I am following–is one that has been predetermined.  I have adjusted my destination to be the result of neurotic discourse.  I have tempted fate to find answers for me.  I have abandoned my aspirations in favour of my aspirations for another.

My life has become a tunnel.  I am blind to my reality, I am short of my expectations.  I am in pursuit of something that has become my only viable option–my only light.

My tunnel has exhausted me.  All has been for naught.  Every feeling, every notion, every dream was but to be expended on another’s freedom from their own bindings.

And I have spent many days resentful of the fact that I have aided someone who has hurt me in escaping from their tunnel; finding their light.  But perhaps I did no such thing.  Perhaps I was their light.