Being at war with yourself is an absurd thought and yet it is very real. The factions, the bullets, the wounds, the scars, the casualties, the truce, the ending of peace talks, the firefights, the meaninglessness of it all.
I have been at war with myself for quite a long time. It was and still is a fiasco in my head. Why did this happen? How did it begin? When will it end? Will it ever end? Maybe it has to do with the fact that I couldn’t and wouldn’t want to surrender for the longest time. Always thinking about how tough I am. A man’s man. You never see a man crying - he never shows it because it’s none of your business. That bullshit kept replaying in my head whenever I relive the moments of my despair and deception.
Blaming everyone but myself was counterproductive. It is a vicious cycle. Even Sid would agree with me here. Always someone else was to be blamed for my misfortunes, never me. Never me who is great, talented, skillful, lovable, admirable, smart, liked and loved by most people.
Also, the fact that you have to mean something in this world didn’t help with the continuous beatings. At 26, you should be this. At 27, you should be earning this much. At 30, you should be ready to settle down. At 35, happy with your own family. At 40, probably retire early and pursue your passions or maybe put up a profitable business to live comfortably the rest of your life. The immense pressure is cracking me up. Seeing friends succeed, seeing them get married, seeing them happy with traveling, seeing them seeing other people - places, opportunities while I rot away in limbo. Wasting away talent and doing away with a mediocre skill set. Trying to find meaning and relevance in a world of measures and standards by which we are judged. Driving the newest car, having the most expensive watch, living the lifestyle that you could have only dreamed of, wearing the most in-the-new trends in fashion, riding the lightest time trial bike... All of those things just whirring in your head even in your sleep is dragging, I tell you.
All of this self defeating self talk will one day be a page in a diary. The troubles of a young mind crippled by debilitating anxiety, trust issues, family quarrels that sometimes turn into violent confrontations, humblebrags from contemporaries, the wanting of a better life and so on. So it goes said Vonnegut. And it will go. I tell you. Everything will go. As for now, I come to understand that without struggle, there is no triumph. Without hardship, nothing is ever worth celebrating. And that wars can come to a complete standstill, they can rage on for as long as you want, and that the fighting never stops until one side drops the guns and the contempt for the other and become the man - if not the BIGGER man. Only I can stop the cycle and the first way that I can do it is to wave my white flag over my head and only pray that the other side stops shooting. Drop everything and surrender. Sometimes it is the only way to win.
