Sunday, 16 December 2012

Trying Hard, Failing, But Still Trying

Perhaps because I have had to work for everything I have gained I experience my highs and lows more dramatically than others. These sentiments could apply as easily to this week where I gained a house, and lost a friend. Or more broadly to the entire year where I have successfully and slowly gained independence, whether it be physically or emotionally. But I have also lost ground with so many life goals. Even though I have internalised my feelings more than ever before, the losses that I have experienced this year were felt more keenly than those previously. This contradiction is evident again when I think that creatively I have felt more frustrated this year despite making some progress on the thesis, beginning a manuscript, and continuing to update this blog on a semi regular basis.

It is much tougher to grasp how I feel emotionally at this particular point in time. Upon turning 29 a month ago I began to feel that time is passing me by. That I no longer feel that I have time to make the naive mistakes that characterise my life. I have to take more responsibility for the course that my life takes. I am (hopefully) through a third of my life and so many life goals remain unattained. They are not minor ones either. They are the big ones, to do with life, relationships and legacy building. I feel like I am so far behind my contemporaries in terms of life experience. Most people I know would likely scoff at this notion, but these thoughts terrify me. I am hopeful that I will catch up now I get to live my own life and make my own choices. In fact I am counting on it.

When describing the move to Brisbane I told a friend that I may never get what I want straight away. Instead I work harder than anyone I know to achieve my goals and I get there eventually. That of course is ideal when striving towards the tangible goals: occupationally, intellectually, and materially. It is however the intangibles that worry me: the things I cannot control. I cannot make anyone love me, as much as I may love them. I cannot expect other people to inforce the high standards of respect and integrity that I place on myself. I cannot convince people to adopt my arguments even when I know that I am right. Most importantly I cannot wish away this dilibating disease that holds me back in every aspect of my life.

I guess I shall look back at this year as one of transition. The one in which I left my latest bout of depression behind and found a group of friends who I care about. For the first time in a long, long time, the future looks promising and not one in which I continually mourn the life that I wish I could have had. It is so much harder for me to focus on the good aspects of the constant challenges because there are not that many. But now the constant grieving is easier because I have things to look forward to.    

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