Pretending
Maybe the hardest part about growing up is adjusting to it.
For the past month, I have been catching up with my friends and relatives from different social circles and from assortments of time cycle. A few of conversations stood up more than most. These conversations made me realize a couple of things that were, frankly, supposed to be obvious for the eyes of young people transitioning into adulthood, or as what these hip people call young adults.
Apart from the evident misery of learning how to be financially organised, there is one other demon that keeps on haunting the journey of growing up into an adult. It's adjustment. We are obligated to navigate our ways, without a proper preparation beforehand, in order to become functioning adult, because, sadly, if you are unable to become one, you would not survive in the modern society. However, there is no law against pretending to be a functioning adult, as long as you contribute something.
But what is the cost of all this? What do you have to sacrifice in order to scrap every last bit of your sanity for the life that you probably have zero idea about. What kind of apologies do you have to utter to yourself when you are doing everything to survive, trying to summon every bravery you have in order to breathe just a little bit more, even though, you do not have any certainty in your current reality? What does it take for you to survive the onslaught obstacles you encounter when you try to survive? It leads to another question: how do you survive?
There are infinite ways for people to survive. The variation of which depends upon their gender, age, geolocation, past history, idiosyncrasy, adaptability, and their own conviction regarding their ability to overcome their difficulties. Accordingly, the outcomes are diverse as well, however, it can be divided into two major categories: harmless and harmful. The combination of two categories are also numerous, in example, you can be harmless to your surroundings, but harmful to yourself, or other mixture thereof.
From my point of view, people survive by worshiping their self-appointed Gods; be it organised-religion's, booze, celebrity obsession, entertainment, and other kind of escapades. Their chosen God would either be their redemption or their downfall, it's up to them to bear the consequences they get by choosing their personal God.
If you were to ask me, how I survive, how do I adapt, how do I adjust myself in this new situation that I found myself in even though I truly dislike the circumstance. Well, my dear, I am not surviving, I am not adjusting, I am not adapting. I am merely putting on parades of façade everywhere I go, trying to disguise everything in an attempt to stop people from recognizing that I'm a fraud. In an attempt to fool everyone into thinking: she's one of us.
Maybe it is partly my fault too for wanting to be accepted in the life that, I know, is not for me. Or perhaps it has been embedded in me that every one wants me to adjust to the life I never know I want to be in or push me into liking something that was not created for me. Life should not feel like this.
Unlike a few years back, I no longer feel the void. I do not have it hovering on top of the center of my chest. I cannot inform you whether or not its existence has disappeared completely, however I can tell you that it no longer bothers me. Instead of suppressed feelings, I am assaulted by excessive emotions that I use to keep below the surface, down, down below, underneath the defensive wall I built to protect my feelings. I cannot tell you, for I do not know myself, the cause of this wall splitting, but I can tell you the catalyst of it all. Liking someone is a riot, after all.
Behind of it all, (the wall, the façades, and the Gods), is me, collecting every bit of kindness and care from the ones who never had the obligation for doing so to me. All I am left now is raw soul with edges and splinters and cracks and bruises.
It's no wonder that I have to beg for romantic love and kindness.
For the past month, I have been catching up with my friends and relatives from different social circles and from assortments of time cycle. A few of conversations stood up more than most. These conversations made me realize a couple of things that were, frankly, supposed to be obvious for the eyes of young people transitioning into adulthood, or as what these hip people call young adults.
Apart from the evident misery of learning how to be financially organised, there is one other demon that keeps on haunting the journey of growing up into an adult. It's adjustment. We are obligated to navigate our ways, without a proper preparation beforehand, in order to become functioning adult, because, sadly, if you are unable to become one, you would not survive in the modern society. However, there is no law against pretending to be a functioning adult, as long as you contribute something.
But what is the cost of all this? What do you have to sacrifice in order to scrap every last bit of your sanity for the life that you probably have zero idea about. What kind of apologies do you have to utter to yourself when you are doing everything to survive, trying to summon every bravery you have in order to breathe just a little bit more, even though, you do not have any certainty in your current reality? What does it take for you to survive the onslaught obstacles you encounter when you try to survive? It leads to another question: how do you survive?
There are infinite ways for people to survive. The variation of which depends upon their gender, age, geolocation, past history, idiosyncrasy, adaptability, and their own conviction regarding their ability to overcome their difficulties. Accordingly, the outcomes are diverse as well, however, it can be divided into two major categories: harmless and harmful. The combination of two categories are also numerous, in example, you can be harmless to your surroundings, but harmful to yourself, or other mixture thereof.
From my point of view, people survive by worshiping their self-appointed Gods; be it organised-religion's, booze, celebrity obsession, entertainment, and other kind of escapades. Their chosen God would either be their redemption or their downfall, it's up to them to bear the consequences they get by choosing their personal God.
If you were to ask me, how I survive, how do I adapt, how do I adjust myself in this new situation that I found myself in even though I truly dislike the circumstance. Well, my dear, I am not surviving, I am not adjusting, I am not adapting. I am merely putting on parades of façade everywhere I go, trying to disguise everything in an attempt to stop people from recognizing that I'm a fraud. In an attempt to fool everyone into thinking: she's one of us.
Maybe it is partly my fault too for wanting to be accepted in the life that, I know, is not for me. Or perhaps it has been embedded in me that every one wants me to adjust to the life I never know I want to be in or push me into liking something that was not created for me. Life should not feel like this.
Unlike a few years back, I no longer feel the void. I do not have it hovering on top of the center of my chest. I cannot inform you whether or not its existence has disappeared completely, however I can tell you that it no longer bothers me. Instead of suppressed feelings, I am assaulted by excessive emotions that I use to keep below the surface, down, down below, underneath the defensive wall I built to protect my feelings. I cannot tell you, for I do not know myself, the cause of this wall splitting, but I can tell you the catalyst of it all. Liking someone is a riot, after all.
Behind of it all, (the wall, the façades, and the Gods), is me, collecting every bit of kindness and care from the ones who never had the obligation for doing so to me. All I am left now is raw soul with edges and splinters and cracks and bruises.
It's no wonder that I have to beg for romantic love and kindness.