The Attack of An Idealistic Me

I really wish I’m the kind of person who doesn’t get affected and insecure by what’s ideal and what’s popular. I wish I could care less of what’s out there and just appreciate what I am and what I have. I wish I could see in its entirety how great of a blessing I have – my life and everything that has happened, is happening and will happen.

I’m such an idealistic person that on most nights I get insomniac just thinking of the things in my life, things that happened differently than how I would have wanted them to be. I know that things happen for a reason and mine’s not that bad actually, just different from my idealistic hopes.I haven’t had a really good night sleep for months now. My heart palpitates..I feel like a rush of cold water is running through my back..I couldn’t sleep and if I sleep, I would wake up from time to time or have different dreams nonstop. All these I get just thinking about the things that have happened to me, where I am, who I am and what I’m doing. I’m being eaten up by the thought that I’m missing a whole lot of the things that someone in my age would be doing. I’m cringing upon the thought that I’m being left out of what I should be doing now, who I should be hanging out with and just what and who I should be am now. 

A couple of the people I know, AKA my friends who read my blogs have messaged me personally that I should be happy instead and that I’m just over thinking all these. I know they’re right. If I was on their side, I would have been mad at Michelle already. I’m such a spoiled. 

I feel like a sick person, mediocre and immature and an ingrate kind of sick. I don’t even know if that makes any sense but really, I do feel like it. Why? Because most of the things I worry, the things I said that I thought I’m "missing out" are actually the unessential, even useless kinds of things in life, like not going on night outs with friends and having enough fun for someone my age; not going to popular shops, restaurants and places before I get too old; spending Saturday nights being bored to death at home doing nothing while my young adult life passes me by; spending another hour of life being regretful, with angst, wishing I’m somewhere else doing something else rather than leaving my homeland and being in a totally new country at a time in my life where I just finished school, earned my license and wondering, "Shouldn’t I be happy and rewarding myself of my hardwork?" "Shouldn’t I be going out with my friends and finally doing the things I’ve been drooling about when I was still stuck in school? I now have all the time in the world and I should be celebrating!" "I shouldn’t be doing this for now, I just worked my ass off and I think I deserve something better than this."

I’m thankful because in the other side of my sick twisted self who thinks about those awful things about my life, a mature right mind still somehow exists. That’s why I even feel more sick about myself – whenever I realize how sickly twisted I get. Just reading what I wrote in the previous paragraph makes me totally sick of myself. How can I think about those things when practically everything in my life seemed easy? And it’s not like I’m not having any fun at all. I am going out with friends, going to places I’ve never been that some people wouldn’t even have the chance to go to. I have the best loving parents who do and provide for me more than imaginable. THEN WHAT AM I FUSSING ABOUT?!? Maybe it’s because I get to do these things but now with my friends and loved one back home. Then again, the idealistic self. I don’t understand how I let my own way of thinking fall short at times. There’s an evil side of me that I know I should abolish. I also have to be able to build an indestructible wall around me so that I wouldn’t be vulnerable and be with envy when I’m not doing what most people do and being where most people are. I just want to be secure. Secure in my own skin, in my own family shell.

I’m also getting sick of letting out thoughts and writing the same things over and over again. Isn’t this an old story about myself? I’ve vented on this before and I should be burying the hatchet already. But instead I seemed impotent of totally eliminating this dark evil sick twisted whatever of me. I know somewhere within me is a power that can overcome it. I just have to find it and release it. I know that sounded corny but somehow it feels like it. Until then, I believe that God has His own wise ways of creating events along my way that will make me able to find that power within.