phobosdiemos
New member
- Joined
- Jan 3, 2009
- Messages
- 25
- MBTI Type
- InFj
- Enneagram
- 4w5
I have tried, so tirelessly, to captivate that knowledge of myself. Who am I? What purpose is there within my life? What defines my personality?
I lose myself so often inside my mind, rather it seems, that it is a growing conflict of my heart vs. the mind. I cannot seem to grasp the differences between healthy thoughts and feelings and negative thoughts and feelings. From what I have been able to gather through my introspection, what I have observed and contemplated, is that I am almost split into what seems like two dualing personalities.
Would this mean that I am diseased or contain some kind of disorder within myself?
I suppose this is the mystification I have with the MBTI and Enneagram. That longing to know why I do things. That ability to have complete dominating control of myself. Alcohol and Benzo's are hated by me for such a reason as this... they show me no benefit in control of myself.
I wish to know myself, so that I can better help others. However, it seems like everytime I discover my "type", the only true piece that fits with me is my introversion. It's as if I wing every other point, S or N, T or F, P or J. I am only comfortable ever relating myself to IxFx, feeling as though I am a straight split between the others.
I was told by someone that perhaps I was an ISFP. It's true, I used to delve into the emotions of my psyche as a child, often lost in them to the point of annoyance. However, abuse and ridicule during my childhood quite possibly caused all of that emotion to at the very least be contained, reaching out only through the words I type.
Lost is a perfect word for how I feel. Lost in a sea of people who know what it is that makes them "them". They know each other perfectly, everyone I live with relates to each other except me. I, am the responsible ghost of the house, who's duty it seems is to simply exist to make sure the household keeps radiating with electricity and flowing with water.
I seem as though I'm stuck in a world of extroversion, one I can never relate with. I suppose it's inevitable for my roommates to not understand the mind of someone as introverted as I. I often times say nothing to them, or very little, but feel obligated to say something, to the point where it destroy's my spirit inside.
I doubt myself and my abilities, though others tell me I have it more together than they could ever have. My hobbies are gone, I have none anymore, spending each waking hour worrying... "When are the bills due?" "Do I have the money for them?" "Why can't I find my major?" "I'm going to fail Speech if I can't learn to speak aloud!"
And yet, these worries are never solved, or at least temporarily shall be only to return in full. Everyone who I have met recently through the online world has told me to seek help. How do I even start...? I have told my mom, my family, that I think I should see a therapist. They didn't understand my need for it, and simply cold-shouldered and made excuses for my reasoning. Excuses I have heard before...
Money
You're fine
Nothing is wrong with you
Look at your brother
The last one make me laugh because my issues arise when I can't figure out who I am and what I could want for myself. My brother, at the least, knows exactly where he is. Maybe not where he's going, but he knows and does what he wants. He looks much happier, whereas I feel I come off as that dark remnant of a broken home.
Lost, in a sea of thoughts and feelings, and never content in anyway. Who I am, and what I like to do, are questions with which have no answer.
I never wanted to seem so selfish, as I hate to anger or annoy anyone... these thoughts I feel I needed to write. Lost I am, a purpose I do not have. I feel so caught up in my past, in things that have happened, that my future is competely foreign, and the only thing I desire is to know who I am.
And that's when it catches up to me, that the only answer I find is to run away, retreat, and live alone in a bliss-filled sorrow.
I lose myself so often inside my mind, rather it seems, that it is a growing conflict of my heart vs. the mind. I cannot seem to grasp the differences between healthy thoughts and feelings and negative thoughts and feelings. From what I have been able to gather through my introspection, what I have observed and contemplated, is that I am almost split into what seems like two dualing personalities.
Would this mean that I am diseased or contain some kind of disorder within myself?
I suppose this is the mystification I have with the MBTI and Enneagram. That longing to know why I do things. That ability to have complete dominating control of myself. Alcohol and Benzo's are hated by me for such a reason as this... they show me no benefit in control of myself.
I wish to know myself, so that I can better help others. However, it seems like everytime I discover my "type", the only true piece that fits with me is my introversion. It's as if I wing every other point, S or N, T or F, P or J. I am only comfortable ever relating myself to IxFx, feeling as though I am a straight split between the others.
I was told by someone that perhaps I was an ISFP. It's true, I used to delve into the emotions of my psyche as a child, often lost in them to the point of annoyance. However, abuse and ridicule during my childhood quite possibly caused all of that emotion to at the very least be contained, reaching out only through the words I type.
Lost is a perfect word for how I feel. Lost in a sea of people who know what it is that makes them "them". They know each other perfectly, everyone I live with relates to each other except me. I, am the responsible ghost of the house, who's duty it seems is to simply exist to make sure the household keeps radiating with electricity and flowing with water.
I seem as though I'm stuck in a world of extroversion, one I can never relate with. I suppose it's inevitable for my roommates to not understand the mind of someone as introverted as I. I often times say nothing to them, or very little, but feel obligated to say something, to the point where it destroy's my spirit inside.
I doubt myself and my abilities, though others tell me I have it more together than they could ever have. My hobbies are gone, I have none anymore, spending each waking hour worrying... "When are the bills due?" "Do I have the money for them?" "Why can't I find my major?" "I'm going to fail Speech if I can't learn to speak aloud!"
And yet, these worries are never solved, or at least temporarily shall be only to return in full. Everyone who I have met recently through the online world has told me to seek help. How do I even start...? I have told my mom, my family, that I think I should see a therapist. They didn't understand my need for it, and simply cold-shouldered and made excuses for my reasoning. Excuses I have heard before...
Money
You're fine
Nothing is wrong with you
Look at your brother
The last one make me laugh because my issues arise when I can't figure out who I am and what I could want for myself. My brother, at the least, knows exactly where he is. Maybe not where he's going, but he knows and does what he wants. He looks much happier, whereas I feel I come off as that dark remnant of a broken home.
Lost, in a sea of thoughts and feelings, and never content in anyway. Who I am, and what I like to do, are questions with which have no answer.
I never wanted to seem so selfish, as I hate to anger or annoy anyone... these thoughts I feel I needed to write. Lost I am, a purpose I do not have. I feel so caught up in my past, in things that have happened, that my future is competely foreign, and the only thing I desire is to know who I am.
And that's when it catches up to me, that the only answer I find is to run away, retreat, and live alone in a bliss-filled sorrow.
