Posts Tagged ‘despair’

someone’s got it in for me

I don’t want your sympathy

I spend somewhere around 2 hours a day, almost every day, despising myself.

That’s 2 hours per day picking apart every aspect of my personality.

  • My thoughts, beliefs and values;
  • My attitude, behaviours and actions;
  • My decisions, choices and options.

Note: This is not reflection, or review, it is simple self-loathing.

Life just never turned out how I wanted it to

14 hours in a week, 56 hours in a month.

Whose life does? I don’t have a master plan, a ‘5 year’ list or anything like that. So without a plan, why do I get upset and depressed if I perceive that things haven’t gone how I wanted them to?

Without a view of how things should be, how can I discern what is incorrect?
Life is fluid, like a river. It’s easier to swim in the direction of flow, rather than try to swim upstream.  But still, I allow myself to believe that swimming upstream is the only way – fighting against the natural state of things, rather than accepting life for what it is.

Am I persecuting myself? Creating my own victim mentality? Am I constantly feeding an inner duality between the part of me that wants to be happy and the part that wants to bully me for every perceived failing?

The answer is: All of these things.

What a state I’m in

28 days across a year.

All of these are my failures:

  • My career has stalled and not advanced to the point I feel I should be at;
  • My earning potential, as  a consequence, is less than I feel it should be;
  • My talent(?) for art and creativity has never led to the successes and self-satisfaction that I want for it;
  • My financial management is, after 16 years of being an ‘adult’ still woefully juvenile;
  • My ability to derive pleasure and happiness from the moment deserts me as soon as the moment has gone;
  • I let my family and loved ones down, consistently and regularly;
  • My offers to look after, care for,  and help my friends always backfires and becomes a burden to them.


All of these are my successes:

The bully inside has got me, and taken everything away. It’s left me, bruised and snivelling and wishing I was home again, somewhere safe.

My self pitying

Since the age of 16, I have possibly spent around one and a half solid years of my life, hating myself.

My self pitying is tiresome. It takes away from who I am. It takes away from what I am. It takes away my potential to make my own happiness, and in so doing, bring happiness to others in turn.

This is what I aspire to:

“He is good to those who are good;
He is also good to those who are not good,
Thereby he is good.
He trusts those who are trustworthy;
He also trusts those who are not trustworthy,
Thereby he is trustworthy.
The sage lives in harmony with the world,
And his mind is the world’s mind.
So he nurtures the worlds of others
As a mother does her children.”
~ 49. People, Tao Te Ching – Lao Tzu

Why does it seem so damn impossible to get there?

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emotional detachment

On the back of a few bad days at work, I’m very much aware of how little difference there is between the work ‘me’ and the non-work ‘me’.

There are people at work who I’m sure are human, somewhere deep inside. Buried under the slopey-shoulders, the ‘business benefits’ and the ‘process’, there must exist thinking, breathing, feeling souls?

So why do I feel like I’m often the only one screaming at the top of their voice “this isn’t right”, “this isn’t fair“, “people deserve better than this”? Have I really got to grow-up and grow a pair to take on the world of work? Or does being cold and detached, unable to empathise and unable to do the right thing – diminish us all?

Maybe I’m just being childish, still being held hostage to my emotions. Maybe those who put on their ‘game face‘ and play the role of the workplace adult are merely guarding themselves against hurt and rejection.

My emotions run close to the skin, I’m aware of that. I take everything way too personally, I’m aware of that too. And yet, I spend 40 hours+ a week at work. I think about work issues in the evenings, at weekends. I believe strongly that the work I do can be a force for good, a force for change. My work – my job, sad as it may seem – in part defines me.

So why shouldn’t something that goes wrong at work be something that hurts? Why shouldn’t a rejection or alteration to my designs be a criticism of me? My work comes from the heart, it is an extension of myself.

The political and business landscape of my employer has changed so much in the last few years, that I no longer recognise it. That either means it’s all wrong, or I’m a relic of a bygone age.

Shape up or ship out as they say.

And I’m thinking about home
And I’m thinking about faith
And I’m thinking about work
And I’m thinking
How good it would be
To be here some day
On a ship called Dignity

Deacon Blue, Dignity

the Crying Game

No, it’s not where I reveal “that” kind of twist!

I had a really good weekend this weekend. Went out for a meal with my wife and friends, saw my mum, did some baking. I even managed to get my music sorted and onto my iPod (3rd time’s a charm!).

Today, it’s all I can do to not weep. Actually, that’s a lie, I cried as soon as I got in through my front door.

What’s wrong with me? How can I go from the highs and positivity of the weekend, and then sink to such a low? If anyone has the answer, please tell me, as I would love to know.

Today, I feel very teary, very lonely and very much like someone who has done everything wrong again. It’s great being me.