Sunday, May 16, 2010
It's puzzling to wonder whether true happiness can be relied solely on oneself. The source of my joy comes from other peoples reinforcements. I feel as though my self esteem must be given to me on some superficail egotistical platter. Most of the time, my anxieties and sorrow surprise momentarily, then come and go with familiarity. I have never yet looked to my own self for advice, nor trusted my own heart for reassurance. This is the reason I am filled with lonliness and angst, even though I am surrounded by dozens of people. Many have told me I must love myself first, but it is a task I have never understood. My subservient qualities are detrimental to my friend and relationships. Guidance and psychological explanations of my behaviour are only a small grain in a bed full of sand. Hope is something that comes with motivation, a feeling that too must come from the inner workings of oneself. I am not permanent; I borrow contempt and esteem, without these, I am drained.