Have you ever felt so helpless a part of you is tempted to give-up?
There are days when I feel exactly like that, instances when I am reminded that while the world is turning and turning, I am seemingly stuck in a hole–trapped to spend my life mired in missed chances and opportunities.
When people point out that I have a killer resume and say that they are impressed and in awe of the things I managed to accomplish in my short life, I try to force a smile. I find it sad that people find value of the things I managed to “accomplish”…when in reality, I don’t think I’ve accomplished anything at all.
(WARNING: pity party coming up)
Quite honestly (and please, pardon me if I sound smug), I don’t get why I’m still here. HERE: languishing in a country buried deep in corruption with opportunities limited to a few. HERE: suffering miserably in an 8-5 where I kowtow to people who have no respect to the feelings of others and who considers themselves above the general population. HERE: in the miserable little room that I call home. HERE. While some people are given opportunities that are thoroughly awe inspiring, I sit here and wait for the end of the world to come. In my pyjamas and favorite shirt, I contemplate the life I have managed to live for more than a quarter of a century. Sometimes, I ask myself why the greatest opportunities in life seemed so aloof, so far from me? What is wrong? Is it me? Or is it the world? Does the world really have this thing against me that I am still deduced to amounting to, at best, “half an impression of something?”
Pardon me if I am not making any sense. Maybe it’s one of those days when I see “developments in other people’s lives” and I can’t help but feel sad about the lack of something good happening in mine. As much as I try to respect and keep alive the words in Desiderata (“If you compare yourself to others, you will become vain or bitter, for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself”), there are days (just like today) that I am reminded that in my 3 decades of existence, I have not amounted to anything great. Bitter, that would be me.
For times when I sense a pity party coming up, I always tell myself that I am still lucky, everywhere in the world, people are in more dire circumstances than I. No disrespect intended: but I have a home, a job, clothes and even 3 square meals a day. Not every person on earth can lay claim on that privilege. But here I am, made angry by missed opportunities, I am ranting like an ungrateful daughter of the Earth.
Maybe, I am just sad and angry for things that I could have done. Ahhh, the what if’s and what could have been’s…Maybe, I am angry that the man I married is a simple man who does not share my lofty ambitions (not that there is something wrong with that), but maybe it could have been great if he also has my drive and sense of ambition. But no, he is a contented little bugger, happy with the little blessings that he is given. Maybe I am mad that I let go of a great opportunity and a great career a few years ago, because my health couldn’t cope with my tyrant of a boss. Maybe I am angry with myself for choosing the wrong opportunities and always finding myself in shit deeper than the previous one. Maybe I am angry because I let things be and I don’t fight as much for what I believe in. Maybe, I am angry for missing opportunities. Maybe, I am so angry with my past transgressions that I couldn’t help but always look back, and mourn and put myself in such a foul funk that I manage to offend people.
Maybe I am so angry…because I keep on looking back?