I can’t quite describe it, but I’m feeling overwhelmingly insignificant at the moment. I know that I’m not. I know I have a partner who loves me to pieces. I know I have at least a few friends who really value my presence in their lives. And yet… the feeling remains.
My life feels like a flame that can just be snuffed out at any moment, and what difference could that really make. Sorry if this sounds morbid, but it’s where my mind is. Logically I know I must have some sort of effect on the world and on others, but all I can think about is how little effect it really is. Other people are important. Other people do significant things, they help change lives, they offer motivation to others around them. What do I do. I do nothing.
I can’t even help those around me even if I wanted to. I became emotionally stunted long ago, and I never learned the proper way to comfort, the proper way to support, the proper way to be. My words are empty and meaningless. My life is empty and meaningless. What motivation and encouragement am I giving others by this blog, for example. If anything I’m sure I must depress people by my constant complaining and constant negativity. I recognize this and yet cannot change it. I can’t press the happy button and transform myself into a genuinely positive happy person. It’s just not going to happen. But I wonder, how are people generally positive and happy? How does that even happen?
I feel lost alone in space. There is no one around me. There is nothing to hold on to. There is no warmth. There is no love. There is no connection. There is no light. There is no hope.
Where can I go to find these things? Anyone have any ideas? Where can I find things to hold onto, to find warmth, to find connection, to find light, to find hope. There is only one answer, and it is completely and utterly depressing: inside myself. I need to find these things in myself, and then I can start finding them in the world and in others. If I constantly seek connection outside myself, I will fall short.
I don’t want to find these things inside myself. In fact, I don’t want to go anywhere near myself. Inside myself, inside my mind, is pure chaos. It always has been. That’s why I’ve always tried avoiding it at all costs. Running, running, ever running from myself. But you can only run got so long.
I don’t make any sense to myself. My mind doesn’t make any sense to myself. My life doesn’t make any sense to myself. And the sad truth is, if you don’t make sense to yourself, then nothing else makes any sense. Other people don’t make sense and the world doesn’t make sense. I cannot be at peace with the world because I’m not at peace inside myself. And yet I don’t even know what that means. Is that some myth? To be “at peace”? To have calm and quiet inside ones mind. I can’t even imagine what that must be like. I can’t even imagine.
I can see why people go off to fight war. So that they can feel significant. So that they feel worthwhile, that their life is worth something, even if in the larger scheme of things, they are really being used as political pawns. But that’s again my morbid side coming out.
What could I possibly do that would make me feel significant. I don’t know, maybe join the peace corps? Or… I don’t know, live and volunteer for a year in some impoverished village in some far away country. Will any of these things help me get to the root of all the issues I’m dealing with? All the anxiety, all the panic, all the dissociation, everything? No. No, it would just be more running. Best course of action is to stay put and walk through the fire. Go through the process of healing in therapy. But I wonder, does anyone ever really come out the other side? Since I’m not on the other side, I really don’t know.
I yearn for these things however. I yearn for connection, for peace in my mind, for balance in my life, for a sense of significance. As the saying goes, “Good things come to those who wait.” Sometimes it feels like I epitomize this statement. Waiting, waiting, ever waiting….