The thing about my mind is that it generates just enough of a sense of purpose to induce longing, anxiety, and restlessness, without providing enough hope to motivate consistent or effective action towards a goal. I’m basically telling myself over and over: ‘Here is this special, wonderful, totally meaningful thing, which is absolutely worth living for and pursuing. And it’s basically impossible for you to get anywhere close.’
It’s the f*cking conflict of it that I hate. Simultaneously believing that something is important and meaningful and yet also hopeless and pointless. If I could just consistently believe one thing, one way or the other, then I could either let it go, or pursue it effectively. But my mind doesn’t seem to work that way. It’s perennially trapped between, alternating through different views of reality. Am I living in the world where enough dedicated effort will finally make it all worth it? Or the world where it’s logically impossible for me to get there, and where trying to deny that reality is causing me pointless suffering?
My mind does this to itself. And it doesn’t know how to stop. It would seem that it’s more than one thing. Different parts have different perspectives and priorities. Different views on what is real, and what is important. And yet one, unified decision must be made. One unified self must be presented to the world. Which me is typing right now? Which me is thinking these thoughts? It seems to shift by the second.
7 comments
I know what you mean.. I absolutely hate my brain.
Have you tried talking to the pilot?
Which one is the pilot, and which one is the one who would talk to the pilot?
The pilot is in your mind and your true self should talk to them.
How do I know which is my true self? How do I tell which part of my mind is the ‘pilot’? Does he have some kind of control panel or steering wheel?
You write brilliantly, if you wrote a book I would read it, and yet again your post is exactly an account of how my mind works. My mind is always the enemy! It’s always on the offensive against me, you know the feeling no doubt, anyway I wish you well!
Thanks. If I felt I had something to say that enough people wanted to hear, then I might write a book. But as it is I feel kind of uneasy about spreading my existential uncertainty to anyone else.