Hating Time

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I’d rather not be here, but today it is more of a necessity than a preference. I would say I haven’t been too lively in the recent days, or even months, but today sucks more than usual. The relapse did have a role in getting me here. It’s become such a long-standing and recurring part of my life that it’s hard to remember the time when it wasn’t there.

I’ve felt lonely before, but it always seemed solvable somehow, that it was situational and nothing more. Making some adjustments would get me back on track. On the contrary, I am meeting people more frequently now. We’ve hired a new person as well, so I interact with him quite frequently. Still, there’s a gaping hole inside me. Also, until now, most of my loneliness was caused by my being away physically from people and events. This time it feels different. I feel alone, but mentally.

It’s going to sound cliché, and maybe it is. There’s no one to talk to. Not for dumping by issues on them, but to even share my thoughts. Now that I think about it, maybe it has been there for a while. Having my work partner to talk to about work was a temporary distraction or even an act of avoidance from my other shortcomings. It’s the same thing that happened with my college roommate. They have their life partners now, and they’ll want to share their lives with them. Which is to be expected, and of course, I don’t blame them. It’s just hard to make sense of what I am supposed to do. Is that how I am supposed to keep going on? Playing a bit part role in other people’s stories. Where’s my story? Let alone a happy one. It sounds like a rant, and I know I will bounce back, but it would be nice if I could have something nice and easy for once.

The situations demand that I become tough. The toughness then pushes people away. And when I am alone, the only option again is to just continue to work on myself and hope that someone sees me as worthy enough to be made part of their life. I’ll accept that I’m not particularly special, in any way. Neither intelligence nor looks, nor any other parameters that are used for such measurements. I’ve always been inconspicuously mediocre. Not bad enough to be taunted or bullied, but not good enough to be seen in a special light. And whatever I do, it’s not enough. Sometimes it’s genes, other times it’s luck, and now and then I manage to fuck some things up as well.

Lol. I complain a lot. It’s not that I am not enough, but rather I am not good enough. At least yet.

Do I dress well? No.
Am I even decently fit? No.
Do I have charisma or good articulation, or presentation as a whole? No.
Do I have strong conviction and acceptance in what I do? Not enough, at least.
Am I responsible enough toward my family? Barely.
Am I trying to do a good job at work, where I spend 8 hours a day? Nope.
Do I have a plan to improve at anything at all? On and Off. Mostly Off.

Do I think I am deserving of more? Probably not.

Yes, it sucks that there’s no one to share these hard times with. But I’ve done it my whole life. Happy or not, that’s no excuse to not get things done. If even at your best, the world does not acknowledge you, maybe then you are allowed to get frustrated. Just a little. Whining never made much happen. Maybe you just have rotten luck and will never be happy. But who says happiness is a necessity to making this life worthwhile? Feelings should have nothing to do with what is the right thing to do. Let’s try again, to the best of our ability, to be slightly better tomorrow. To try and be deserving of all you want.

“To get what you want, you have to deserve what you want. The world is not yet a crazy enough place to reward a whole bunch of undeserving people.”

– Charlie Munger