“Engywook: Next is the Magic Mirror Gate. Atreyu has to face his true self.
Falcor: So what? That won’t be too hard for him.
Engywook: Oh, that’s what everyone thinks! But kind people find out that they are cruel. Brave men discover that they are really cowards! Confronted by their true selves, most men run away screaming!”
I must have re-written this stupid sentence a dozen times already. That’s how incredibly frustrated I am with my inability to truly speak about the way I feel. That happens every time I try to put into words how I truly feel about myself. It’s not easy. There are a lot of conflicting ideals at odds and the man in the theater is sort of content to play all side against one another. It’s borders maddening. It is compounded by my inability to articulate it accurately. I’ve spent a few months now in a state of latent metamorphosis. It’s painful and arduous to pick yourself apart so you can start to rebuild. During moments of my reconstruction I’ve repeatedly asked myself “Is this shit even worth it?” “Am I getting any fucking where?” The smallest setbacks send me reeling. The bigger ones? I near catastrophic failure. The almost mute whisper of “I’m fucking done” reverberates into space. It makes me want to clutch my bleeding heart and throw it into the snow. In some ways I’ve already done that.
“You’re being hard on yourself”
There is a reason I am. Not being hard on myself or holding myself accountable has led me to where I am at the moment. Sometimes delusional about my own progress, sometimes excited about how far I’ve come. I’m my own worst enemy and I’ve been kicking my own ass pretty good for a long time now. Every time I stop to see how far I’ve come, I’m less impressed by the distance.
I don’t what else to say. I just had to get that off my chest.
