Aspiringanonymous
March 30th, 2010, 10:53 PM
I've probably spoken about it before. When something triggers but a tiny spark of depression, and that long-neglected fragment inside clings onto it, greedily attempting to expand its influence. It hopes to subjugate my consciousness to its destructive will, so as to regain the power which it once possessed, but was later stripped of in disgrace. If everything one experiences becomes engraved as a part of us - then, so long as that part remains, no matter how minuscule, it will never cease dreaming of returning to its former glory. What it perceives to be glorious.
It creeps up on me every once in a while. I feel I have considerable immunity to it as of now, mostly due to circumstantial factors in a lifestyle that will soon be coming to an end. Changes await me at the end of these few months, for the better or for worse, but I'm afraid to embrace them. For now - it is always something - the same thing - in my external environment that pulls me back; what will I do when that factor is no longer present?
My willingness to be open to such a destructive force is deeply disturbing; but it is there. It's always been that way. After all, most of my conscious life had been conducted under its shadow, powerless to its manipulation. It almost appears like an abstract mother figure, the only entity in this existence that accompanied me everywhere I went, that promised to never abandon me and actually lived up to its promise. Kind of like how self-harmers would come to see their self-harm as a 'best friend'; a horrible delusion.
It will pass this time, I know it will. But it will come back, and keep coming back, until it succeeds; until this futile resistance fails. I've always known this - one of those gut feelings that can't be described - and I thought at one point that I was okay with it. I would go on living, doing what is expected of me to the best of my ability and walk on to as far as I can manage, in the face of inevitable failure. But whenever the going gets tough, whenever challenges arise, my lack of motivation becomes painfully apparent.
The self-awareness that I love to preach, fails to serve me well after all. I often wish I was completely ignorant, blissful; that I still believed I could attain the state of being which I strive for; that there was something worth believing in after all.
My apologies if that was confusing to follow..
It creeps up on me every once in a while. I feel I have considerable immunity to it as of now, mostly due to circumstantial factors in a lifestyle that will soon be coming to an end. Changes await me at the end of these few months, for the better or for worse, but I'm afraid to embrace them. For now - it is always something - the same thing - in my external environment that pulls me back; what will I do when that factor is no longer present?
My willingness to be open to such a destructive force is deeply disturbing; but it is there. It's always been that way. After all, most of my conscious life had been conducted under its shadow, powerless to its manipulation. It almost appears like an abstract mother figure, the only entity in this existence that accompanied me everywhere I went, that promised to never abandon me and actually lived up to its promise. Kind of like how self-harmers would come to see their self-harm as a 'best friend'; a horrible delusion.
It will pass this time, I know it will. But it will come back, and keep coming back, until it succeeds; until this futile resistance fails. I've always known this - one of those gut feelings that can't be described - and I thought at one point that I was okay with it. I would go on living, doing what is expected of me to the best of my ability and walk on to as far as I can manage, in the face of inevitable failure. But whenever the going gets tough, whenever challenges arise, my lack of motivation becomes painfully apparent.
The self-awareness that I love to preach, fails to serve me well after all. I often wish I was completely ignorant, blissful; that I still believed I could attain the state of being which I strive for; that there was something worth believing in after all.
My apologies if that was confusing to follow..