I often find myself to be slightly ‘off’ from the people that I tend to surround myself with. ‘Normal’ is generally defined by what the majority lives by, in which case I hardly ever feel normal. I find myself wishing that I could enjoy things that these ‘normal’ people enjoy. I curse myself on, for example, not liking to dance. Why can’t I just have fun like ‘normal’ people? Why can’t I live up to my friends’ expectations and desires when all they want is to not leave me out and to spend time? Why do I actively find myself pushing away the friends that care about me? A very recent incident has led me to a new discovery about myself. It turns out that I have a very active defence mechanism that works to keep me from harm (or so I like to believe). Every time I find myself getting emotionally close to someone, a killswitch inside me activates which just turns all emotions off. I know not, as of now, why this is so, or how I can control it, but I try; and fail miserably which in turn causes an immense amount of hurt to the ones around me. It has happened four times so far, if I can recall correctly. I used to earlier think that the fault lies in the other person but have come to realise that that is not true. It is only my brain that looks for the most minor of details to pinpoint and then completely blows them out of proportion in order for me to not end up blaming myself.
Another thing that I ponder about is the fact that, of all the famous life stories you see, only those that existed with a touch of insanity are the ones that were glorified. Look at Tesla, Bobby Fischer, John Nash, and Alan Turing for example. All of them driven crazy by their obsession to work and all of them socially shunned for the longest time. On many occasions I have wished to be in their shoes. Despite having friends, I often feel like an outcast; so why couldn’t I have the obsession to work hard like they did? If the path to success and knowledge goes through a forest of crazy, then I’d gladly go through it; just give me my obsession to work. Make it so that I forget everything else in the process. Make it so nothing can happen that will change my mind. Make me extraordinary. Make me not procrastinate. Make me not distracted. This is starting to sound like a poem now, so I’ll stop. But yes, if the option to be endlessly motivated, energised and willing to just work presented itself with the drawback of being driven crazy, I probably would take it.
I also wish that I was as obsessed with working hard as I am with stressing about not working hard. Wouldn’t that be a wonderful state of mind to be in?