Even if I had a fulfilling day, even if I made good money or watched a good movie or read a good novel, even if I was pleasantly and happily occupied all day, why during night time do I always feel this sick feeling that I have wasted my day, that I have wasted yet another day? What exactly is my expectation from myself? Why do I find pleasures gained from senses and thought repulsive in the end? Why do I distrust my thought, my senses and myself?
Recalling a dialogue of Amol Palekar from movie Naram Garam: ‘Meri zindagi ek sookha ped hai, jispar fool to kya patte aane ki bhi umeed nahi hai.’
5 comments
:p
Seems to me that your expectations are too high. That you fear failure and being exposed for it. Forgive my candor, but I feel the same way at times, and those are my reasons why.
Because – my guess – when you were very young somebody put the damn idea in your head that YOU MUST BE VISIBLY MOVING FORWARD IN YOUR LIFE OR YOU ARE A FAILURE THAT NO ONE WILL LOVE.
I swear. It’s like a tape recorder hidden in the junk in your head. Sometimes being tired, seeing a trigger, a time of day, will make it start playing. Over and over. Quiet and loud.
The definition of FORWARD is any impossible goal. The pressure to marry for some can be debilitating. So many cultures equate status with what job you have. Some fat people diet and exercise like mad and the scale hardly budges.
All these people blame themselves, er, usually. Because, when they were kids, every adult was a giant that controlled their food supply. You really, really wanted to make giants like you. But, invariably, there is one shitty giant that mistreats or lies or uses.
After effects range from PTSD to comical nervousness.
That is why, even after a fulfilling day, you feel like shit about a wasted day,
do you feel something is missing from these pleasant days? Has the night time always triggered these feelings?
‘There was no hurry, but I was always rushing.’ Someone on SP wrote this and it applies to me very well. I feel that I need to do something, something worthwhile. And just surviving or getting sensory pleasure don’t feel like worthwhile achievements.
Is it really the pressure of my parents’ expectations or fear of failure? I am not sure. It may be either or both or none. Such things often hide their true face.