Polaris
AKA Nunki
- Joined
- Apr 7, 2009
- Messages
- 2,551
- MBTI Type
- INFJ
- Enneagram
- 451
- Instinctual Variant
- sp/sx
I could easily write a post oozing with melodrama, and that's just what I did a few days ago to top off my birthday in a positive light. I felt sedate enough the next morning, however, to realize that I wasn't conducting business in a manner that was healthy for me or anyone else. I still realize that, and because I do, I'm going to approach things in a way this time that I hope will not force me to delete anything.
Quite simply, I have a problem. I can gain no satisfaction from the social world; people leave me indifferent, and every instant of indifference only teaches me to further reduce my efforts. I might start out friendly and warm, divulging things about myself and learning everything I could hope (but don't really care) to know about someone. This charade of friendliness is my genuine effort to forge a connection with people; I don't feel it, but I want to and I'm trying to. I can't, though. I'm impotent, almost in the same way as people who are sexually impotent; I can't rise to the occasion, I can only pretend. And as I fail, again and again, even that surface warmth gives way until all I can muster is a shallow politeness. This continued failure to connect with people has taught me to stop trying in the first place. What efforts I do make may be efforts, but I write them off in advance; they're failures before they even get off the ground.
This isn't the case of someone who wants to bury himself in a hole and never be seen again. I'm not a hermit, at least not by choice. I want to love people and I want to be involved, and not only do I want this, but I want it more than anything; it, and it alone, is my reason for living, the thing my every goal revolves around, and because it's so far out of reach, I'm finding it hard to justify myself. Each day my motivation to live, breathe and struggle is trickling away; I keep asking myself how I'm going to survive the rest of these human years, and the only answer I can come up with is that I must do it.
The one thing that keeps me going is pain, the pain of what I want but can't and won't have. Even when I fall in love with someone, madly, deeply and foolishly, even when I can find a person who lights up the whole world so that I can care about others as a means of basking in that light, that love is only a magnified pain, an intensified hopelessness.
It's hard to say why I'm writing this. I feel like I need hope, inspiration, anything, because I can't shoulder this burden even though I will and must.
P.S. I assume this is the appropriate section, since I'm an NF and this is a personal thread.
Quite simply, I have a problem. I can gain no satisfaction from the social world; people leave me indifferent, and every instant of indifference only teaches me to further reduce my efforts. I might start out friendly and warm, divulging things about myself and learning everything I could hope (but don't really care) to know about someone. This charade of friendliness is my genuine effort to forge a connection with people; I don't feel it, but I want to and I'm trying to. I can't, though. I'm impotent, almost in the same way as people who are sexually impotent; I can't rise to the occasion, I can only pretend. And as I fail, again and again, even that surface warmth gives way until all I can muster is a shallow politeness. This continued failure to connect with people has taught me to stop trying in the first place. What efforts I do make may be efforts, but I write them off in advance; they're failures before they even get off the ground.
This isn't the case of someone who wants to bury himself in a hole and never be seen again. I'm not a hermit, at least not by choice. I want to love people and I want to be involved, and not only do I want this, but I want it more than anything; it, and it alone, is my reason for living, the thing my every goal revolves around, and because it's so far out of reach, I'm finding it hard to justify myself. Each day my motivation to live, breathe and struggle is trickling away; I keep asking myself how I'm going to survive the rest of these human years, and the only answer I can come up with is that I must do it.
The one thing that keeps me going is pain, the pain of what I want but can't and won't have. Even when I fall in love with someone, madly, deeply and foolishly, even when I can find a person who lights up the whole world so that I can care about others as a means of basking in that light, that love is only a magnified pain, an intensified hopelessness.
It's hard to say why I'm writing this. I feel like I need hope, inspiration, anything, because I can't shoulder this burden even though I will and must.
P.S. I assume this is the appropriate section, since I'm an NF and this is a personal thread.