Like the Hindenburg, only quieter
Jan. 29th, 2003 03:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mousmeJust crashed and burned, massively.
Am inexplicably drained. Don't know why, but I'm on the verge of tears. I don't know why I seem to be unable to cope with everyday life: if billions of other people can do it, why can't I? It can't be that difficult, or else the entire world population would commit suicide eventually.
So what is it about my psychological make-up that makes me less resilient?
More to the point, I'd like to have a higher purpose in life. I'd like to know that I'll make a difference to someone other than myself. Because, as much as pop-psychology tells me otherwise, I'm just not enough of a reason to justify my own existence. I wonder if it's selfish of me to want that. Maybe I just want to help other people so I can pat myself on the back and tell myself that I am, indeed, a worthwhile person in spite of my doubts and other people's condemnation.
I feel useless. Not that I can't be useful, because I have been in the past and I know I could be, but right now all I'm doing is preying on people in the service of those who came up with the idea of preying on people to begin with. How can I respect myself when I know that? How am I supposed to look myself in the face every morning when I stare into the mirror?
Somewhere along the line I flushed my integrity and my dignity down the toilet. I'm nothing but a debased shell of the potential I once had.
Am inexplicably drained. Don't know why, but I'm on the verge of tears. I don't know why I seem to be unable to cope with everyday life: if billions of other people can do it, why can't I? It can't be that difficult, or else the entire world population would commit suicide eventually.
So what is it about my psychological make-up that makes me less resilient?
More to the point, I'd like to have a higher purpose in life. I'd like to know that I'll make a difference to someone other than myself. Because, as much as pop-psychology tells me otherwise, I'm just not enough of a reason to justify my own existence. I wonder if it's selfish of me to want that. Maybe I just want to help other people so I can pat myself on the back and tell myself that I am, indeed, a worthwhile person in spite of my doubts and other people's condemnation.
I feel useless. Not that I can't be useful, because I have been in the past and I know I could be, but right now all I'm doing is preying on people in the service of those who came up with the idea of preying on people to begin with. How can I respect myself when I know that? How am I supposed to look myself in the face every morning when I stare into the mirror?
Somewhere along the line I flushed my integrity and my dignity down the toilet. I'm nothing but a debased shell of the potential I once had.
