I was never a fan of being a part of the internet. I only just got back onto social media in January this year. My time on social media hasn’t been very long, and I am finding that it does not do anything for me. It doesn’t make me feel better about myself. It doesn’t add any real value to my life. It only makes me wonder what I’m doing wrong when everyone else seems to be having the time of their lives. It’s no wonder I left it all once before.
I understand that its easy to paint a picture on social media, to make it seem like I know or have everything figured out, but I don’t. I still deal with my own struggles and mistakes that nobody else will ever understand. Facebook and instagram only provide temporary relief.
I know how to get better, and I’ve always known what I needed to do. Technology and social media have been keeping me away from doing what I’ve been trying to do for nearly 3 years, and that’s becoming a better human being. Technology and social media cannot provide me the means that will make me a better person. It’s only a distraction, and it has always been at every point in my life.
Technology is not all at fault for my unhappiness. I blame myself for becoming too comfortable with the lifestyle I’ve been provided for all my life. My parents have always worked to provide for my family. All they asked was that we go to school and get good grades, and to do what we wanted to pursue in life. They have always given me a free pass to avoid doing everything I didn’t want to, and they are so quick to take any and every opportunity to provide me with something that I didn’t ask for. A lot of times I’ve said to them, “Don’t get it for me, I don’t want it.” I’ve given them a hard time a lot when I was younger. Looking back at how I was, I wish I could go back as me now and beat some sense into myself. I know my parents wouldn’t.
I’ve wished so many times that they were harder on me, but they can never be, simply because I’m their first child, and their son. I’ve sought out, difficult, hard labor jobs just to know what it was like to work hard. I used to cut open 50 pound bags of onions, dump them onto a conveyor belt, hand pick the bad ones, bag the good ones, and stack them onto palettes for shipping. I would do this for 6-8 hours a day. It’s very monotonous and physically tiring. All I wanted to do after work was go home, eat, and sleep. I’m not sure what this says about me, when I have the need to seek out this kind of work. Sitting at a desk does not count as work to me.
I’ve had a great opportunity in life, given by my parents, and I am unhappy that I’m struggling to find any sort of meaning behind everything I do. Not long ago, I thought I had meaning and purpose. I had people I cared about greatly, and I would have done anything for them. I ended up parting ways with both of them because I was pushed to the edge. I was pushed psychologically, and it was beginning to take a toll on my overall well-being. I felt like I couldn’t bear it any longer. By my own doing, I’ve hurt them both and myself. Even though I thought I was sparing them and myself the trouble, I’ve continued to suffer inside ever since. I was selfish. They were the only 2 persons I’ve ever cared about, and there’s nothing I can do to make things right again. Now, I have no one that will help me from myself.
All my life I’ve been the only one to dig myself out an emotional hole, and nothing has changed. Even with the two that I’ve lost, I was always the therapist, and not the patient. I do believe that everything I’m dealing with now, must be dealt with on my own. I believe it’s the only way to truly get out of what I’m dealing with, and for me to get better. Any support from others or distractions won’t alleviate a thing for me. It sounds bad, but I believe that any outside support would only be a temporary fix. Which is why I must endure and break this cycle of suffering on my own.
I’m disappointed that this is what life has become for me. An endless loop of self-defeating thoughts by the mistakes I’ve made at the fault of my own actions.
I’m in the hole, and I’ve only myself to blame.