back when i was young, i had many moments where i just wanted to leave and get as far away as possible, and in some cases, i actually did leave the house. granted, it was never very far or long, and it was usually a direct result of a huge fight between my mom and i. still it felt unbelievably empowering to consciously make the decision to leave followed by a feeling of liberation once i did leave. of course it always ended with me feeling sheepish and stupid because the reality back then was that i had nowhere to go. i'd eventually end up back at home, ultimately surrendering myself to the dependency i had to my parent's home, to their money, to their cars, to their presence and their love. it was an incredibly defeating feeling, being trapped in a world that i hated and one that i felt powerless to change, the world being a reference to my individual life. i had no sense of real purpose or motivation. life was a routine of endless turmoil. i constantly sought solace and comfort in the one place i desperately needed to get away from, although i hadn't realized this yet at the time. home...
there was a lot of freedom, easily being able to waste countless hours watching tv or playing video games till dawn. it was comfortable, and it was easy. i didn't need to talk to anyone. i didn't need to think about anything i didn't want to think about. i didn't need to probe and explain my emotions. i didn't need to uphold deep conversations nor did i need to force myself to understand anything outside of the realm of my current understanding. overall, i never had to really challenge myself.this is what "comfortable" represents to me, and it is my biggest vice.
achieving comfort is great. remaining comfortable is not. a prolonged state of comfort paralyzes me, my way of life, and it's what thwarts my climb to reach greater heights. it makes me lazy and complacent with people, with experiences, with life. i've come a long way since those teenage years feeling trapped in my parent's house. back then, i had no choice. there was no way to free myself. now, i'm completely free, completely self-sufficient and independent. yet, over and over, i find myself ending up back in the same home, only this time, "home" isn't a physical place. instead it's people, friends, a job, a routine lifestyle. if i had only known back then that this feeling of complacency was never about an actual place but more an established routine, it would've saved me some bitterness.
here i am now, living in sf, possessing many components that people can sometimes perceive as being part of the equation for happiness. yet, my heart still feels unfulfilled and discontent with the feeling growing even stronger as a direct result of the "comfort" that i've built around myself. i've been hanging out with the same people, doing the same things, talking about the same things, and working the same job. i'm desperate for change, and i get flashes of moments where i wish i could just run away from everything and leave it all behind without looking back. i need new inspiration, new people, and new experiences to feed the undying hunger for which i know will inevitably keep coming back, over and over again.
i feel empty and i need new nourishment. lately, i haven't consciously been setting time out for myself. as a direct result, i'm constantly feeling exhausted, tired, overwhelmed, and drained. i'm constantly running on a low to near empty tank, never able to refill it up more than halfway. from the myers briggs, i was always in between an introvert and extrovert, meaning i switch from one to the other. if i took the exam again, i'd expect to come out a pretty strong introvert. that side of me has been deprived for several months now, and i'm now at a point where i desperately seek solitude.
i'm currently struggling to accept the undeniable possibility that my heart may never feel fully content, ever. it's a hard truth to swallow and embrace. it's admitting to myself that i'll always see a light at the end of the tunnel without ever being able to physically reach it. now is just another point in my life where the end tunnel light has gradually faded slightly further and further away. time to start walking again...
time to run away... again
1 comment:
The grass is always greener, my friend. Always...
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