Lately I have been feeling as if I am stuck in perpetual states of confusion – emphasis on “states”. This isn’t something that’s unheard of for me, as every so often I find myself contemplating my life, where I am in, how I have changed, my views (in general), and so forth; however, in the last couple of weeks certain things have been floating about in the midst of my mind that I am suddenly sprung into states of perpetual confusion and to some extent, annoyance.
What does the suppression of certain emotions do to oneself? Is the suppression (of whatever it happens to be) analogous to aimlessly filling a jar – in the sense that one fills the jar and never empties it until one day it overflows with the stored content? I guess what I’m really trying to say is that I’m confused about my emotions… I’ve spent so many years suppressing that part of me that I now feel completely lost. I’ve spent so many years analyzing my life and trying to rationalize everything that I’ve lost the one aspect of life that now seems vitally important. I know who I am in terms of what I want in life, my dreams, the job I wish to have, my education… But I am constantly searching for the one thing that is incomprehensible to me… Even now I am unsure of what it is, but I do know where this incomprehensible yearning stems from.
It always goes back to relationships – relationships with people have always been peculiar for me. I didn’t seem to connect well with girls at a young age, I’ve always felt out of place with people who are around my age and boys (and men) always seemed much easier to converse with due to their disengagement (and seemingly disengagement) with emotions. I have met (and continue to meet) many people and in the process I have grown rather close to few, others are mere acquaintances, and some I’ve simply lost touch with. In all of these friendship relationships I’ve learned quite a few things of myself. At one point in my life, I was incredibly abrasive, partially due to my home life, though this serves not as a justification of my actions of the past or present but rather as a form of self-reflection and analysis. My abrasiveness had two effects, (1) I pushed people away as they were turned off my by demeanor and (2) some were intrigued and appreciated the gesture – but I would argue that more were turned off than intrigued. As a result, I’ve tried, to the best of my ability, to change that aspect of myself. Instead of jumping to an agitated or aggressive behavior, I tried to take steps back and reflect. To some extent, I’ve been successful, but in other respects, my abrasive behavior has merely dwindled to a duller effect. So why am I writing about this?
What I’ve realized in just the last two years, is that I’ve changed, at times much more than I’d like to admit, but the truth of the matter is that I have changed. I’m much more introverted than most realize, and although I have learned to balance what I feel is acceptable and unacceptable by picking and choosing which battles to fight and which are just too infinitesimal to be bothered with, I have also retreated from many and have come to accept that I may just be one of those types of people who will go through the majority of their life alone – literally alone and in every sense of the word. To some degree, this is by choice as I personally believe that all predicaments in which one arrives at is to some extent by choice; yet paradoxically, it is also involuntary as well as out of one’s full control as one never really truly comprehends how situations and events in life will ultimately unravel. What I’ve noticed however, is that my life, similar to my personality, is always filled with new adventures. Novelty is my predicament; learning and experiencing new things is my “high” in life, which is gratifying and euphoric as I am constantly finding new ways of undergoing and comprehending life, but it is also detrimental as it suggests some form(s) of instability – for the time being, I use this term loosely. And although I am only a few years into my twenties, I have already noticed the effects novelty has taken on my life… perpetual states of confusion and constant reverberations of self-reflection, self-contemplation and self-reexamination –the key word here is “self”.
As one of my previous entries suggested (Happiness through Loneliness), loneliness is an unavoidable state and one that I am comfortable in, a tranquil condition of being and becoming. Yet at times it can also be discerning as it begs questions of duration – for how long will this loneliness persist for, to what extent does loneliness evolve into, when will loneliness subside, why does loneliness occur and persist, and etc. If I seem as if I’m contradicting what I have previously stated – that loneliness is inescapable as we are always alone – then let me clarify. The relationship that one has with loneliness is paradoxical, although one is always alone, it does not imply that one must always experience it. The importance of loneliness is like the importance of having rhythm in music, rhythm “drives” the musical notes throughout the piece until the finale, yet the music piece in itself never really comes to a full denouement, the experience that one has with music is everlasting, one recreates that experience through humming, singing, tapping – all ways of mimicking and reliving that experience, but in doing so, one also takes ownership of it. We sometimes recreate in order to remake or re-experience in hopes of revisiting that initial sensation and other times we recreate in hopes of finding a new one but regardless of the desire, the point is that we take ownership. This is the same function of loneliness; rhythm is to music as loneliness is to the human being.
Back to my instability reference, if one understood my analogy, then one should come to understand why novelty is both gratifying and detrimental as it is yet, another paradoxical relationship. I can’t say that I’ve alleviated my perpetuating states of confusion, but I can say that through re-visitation, I think I know what I have to do.