I am dysfunctional. I need to be in control again. Writing should help. Where is my life going anyway? I keep losing focus. Same old bad habits, started on that fated day on 2011. I guess I need to make more conscious efforts to fight. I continued with NoFap, it did me well, and now I have the privilege of working at home and taking control back in my life again – when I was complaining the year before on all the lost time from commutes and not having much focus on personal development and my own projects.
But yeah, I keep losing focus. And I’m not happy with what’s happening in my self, this direction I’m taking. My health was okay, a few months before, but I’m starting to lose the consistency and spiral back to the dark pasts – not eating well, not taking care of myself. I need to do more.
Dreams. What’s that thing you want to happen in your future that you want to fight for? I never fought for anything five years ago, or any way before that. I never fought for myself – and what I wanted to be. I was just riding the waves, waiting for God to spring some grand climactic event that would produce this burst of improvement in my life – the way I’ve been taught to think.
Now I have to align myself back. Writing this helps, really, a lot.
I’m still thinking the same damn depressing thoughts, for several years. It might be growing worse, or I’m just finding ways to ignore it. Working a 9 to 5 job certainly helps to keep me from thinking often, but that left me unsatisfied as I had cried while walking to work and back home while listening to songs like Tom Day’s “Who We Want to Be”, Tristam’s “Frame of Mind” and Porter Robinson’s “Fellow Feeling”.
I’m 22 years old, and that certainly doesn’t help knowing I should be better off, more together, more further along the way I think things should be. But I have to accept today so I could move. I have to accept that today is all I have, and I have to keep fighting this struggle against my demons. A few posts back, I mentioned meeting and talking to people as a waste of time – and it probably has been, the case, as I recall the past few months of this year making nonsense social interactions on Twitter or finding someone to masturbate with on Skype, or try to create something “more” that could just never really exist, in spite of how I believe that there’s something that could be there, something to help me. But no, humans can’t ever deal with my demons anymore, and I’ll have to be responsible enough to admit that no one’s gonna help me fight them except myself. I have to admit and fully let go of the notion that these people are going to do anything to make my life a full peaceful experience, because that can only come from myself. I have friends though. “Friends” being defined as people you’re close to and free to be myself with, but not entirely someone who’s always there – because that shit’s for the movies and for first world countries or people who’ve had a well-established past that let them create strong relationships.
Friends like J and R, where I’ve been honest with myself to, and how I know they want me to be my best. And that’s a good thing in a way. To love someone is to want and wish the best to happen to them, for them to be their best self. But it’s still up to me to be that best self.
What is my motivation? After all, I did find out about my sickness several months ago now.
I’ve been watching Mr. Robot recently. I’m likening my situation to Elliott’s discontent about society, and how he does something about it through F Society. Like him, it’s hard for me to interact to people, I overthink, I’ve grown cynical. I shouldn’t trust people with my time easily anymore. Haven’t I learned enough from this? Jeez. No matter how much you talk to people, you can’t really get close to them anymore. But yeah, these online interactions only get to little matters. If I ever go back to school, will I ever belong somewhere? Will I be able to interact easily and find friends that I could count on in times when the schoolwork gets too hard?
That story he wrote, about moving on from dark pasts, it certainly hits close to home. But it may be too good to be true.