Not even worth it...

I guess everyone has their personal torments to live with.  We're meant to face them and overcome them, hopefully with some level of dignity, but probably not.  Being a human is an ugly and awkward business.

We're shortsighted and don't get to see the bigger picture. We get swallowed up by the drag of everyday disappointments.   They cloud our judgment and take control of our minds until we can't see anything else.

At least, I know this is true for me.  I waste a lot of time thinking about things that aren't a concern.  I get bothered by what I can't control.  I try to be accepting of the things that happen, but it's not always easy.  I worry over everything, and I'm at the point now where I realize that none of it is worth the trouble.  None of it is going to make one damn bit of difference in the end.  It will work out or it won't.

I hate not knowing.  I hate the unknown when my world grows dark, and the light is harder to find.

Everything will be ok. I tell myself, but the truth is that I don't know. It's another lie I tell myself to get through a day.  I don't know if life is going to work out for me.  The worst I could imagine is me being the same frivolous thinker on my deathbed as I am now.  I'd be a huge disappointment to myself if that happens.  Even more so than I already am.

They're harder to hold onto when you reach a certain age and have nothing to show for your years of living.  The hopes and dreams I mean. The world was a wide and welcoming place when I was five; full of possibilities and endless adventures.

But, I've done fuck all with my life.  That's my fault.  I'm sure I had the opportunities but lacked the motivation.  I got caught up in my feelings of worthlessness and insignificance.  I allowed myself to be simple and not strive to achieve anything more than what I thought I deserved. So, that great wide world grew smaller and smaller.

That's the horrible and sobering truth.  This is my fault.  I'm miserable because I hold onto shit that's useless when all is said and done.  I want things that are trivial and not worth the effort it takes to try to make them stick.  I ignore the reality that there is a bigger picture and that's what I should focus on.  The rest will fall into place, or they won't.  Either way, they're  just fillers, aren't they? Things to fluff out our years and give life a little more oomph while we wait.  They aren't necessarily important. Regardless of how much I'd welcome them and have a need for them.

I stopped blaming everyone else, though. Whatever they did to me, I allowed. I believed in their low opinion of me because I didn't care to see the difference.  I was in a constant state of "waiting."  I should have been out and about making my dreams come true instead of wasting time wishing on stars.

It's not too late for me to make something of myself but the question I ask myself is, "Is it worth the effort?"  "Do I want it enough?" 

No.  It's sadly easy for me to admit it.  All the things that I want would involve me succeeding and in succeeding, I'd have to be out in the open and vulnerable to the world.  I'd have to surround myself with people and be social. I'd much rather hide away in a hole somewhere, a place where no one would find me. 

I'm a coward. I've always been. 

I'd go mental and live the daydreams.  Which doesn't bother me, I'm half there already.  But I know deep down that it should.  A person shouldn't be ok with becoming crazy.   That's not an acceptable life goal.  It just seems easier than having to deal with liars and self-absorbed assholes who judge you because they don't understand.  They'll always know a lot more than me.  No matter what I say, it's never enough, or it's never right.  I'll never know anything.  To some people, my opinion isn't worth the air I've wasted expressing it.  It's my fault, though, because I never prove them wrong.  I just get angry about it and feel like a fool.

I know what I'm capable of.  People seem to think that they know me better than I know myself, and when they make such statements, even cryptically, I can only roll my eyes and make my arguments inwardly.

 I lack the desire to make a difference.  I lack the confidence.  I've abused myself more than should have been allowed.  I've beaten myself down more than is acceptable.  I keep myself so low to the ground because I've started to believe the lies I've told myself.  I contradict myself daily, because even with all of these negative thoughts I have about myself,  I am worth more than all of this. 

I know that the first step I have to take is finding my way out of that cycle.  I have to let the doubt and self-hatred fall away before I can embrace the possibilities.  It's just not something that I find easy.  No matter what tricks I've tried.  My mind turns on itself like a scorpion surrounded by fire.