Man in the mirror

Yay, it’s Friday. Or Saturday, since it just passed midnight.

Friday was enlightening. As in, literally enlightening. I think I learnt more about myself today than I could have ever done at camps. And it hurts to see my reflection in the mirror.

First of all, I discovered I’m a narcissist. No, not one which frequently examines his own appearance, but one who takes great pride. Yes, I have an ego.  I draw great conceit from praise and achievement. Any tiny, tiny form of achievement – I end up drawing happiness from for days. Perhaps it’s a double-edged sword, allowing me to be continually happy – yet pulling the wool over my own eyes – not allowing me to see the plain and simple truth that I am not any ‘ great stuff ‘ at all?

Come to think about it, I’d been like that for years. I love being praised. To an unhealthy extent. Of course, everyone loves some lip service , an affirmation to one’s own achievement and others recognising that fact. However, most people don’t (i suppose), feel continually happy from one minor achievement, something which was already expected of you to carry out and something no-one cares about.

Narcissism connotes several of the 7 deadly sins : Lust, Greed, Gluttony ,Pride and Envy.

Then I also realised that I can’t sweat the small stuff. I have an obsessive compulsive disorder for which needs to be ascertained. I can’t sit still when I send an email –  I worry and panic over each tiny, forgiveable mistake. I can’t leave the house without double-checking that I locked the door, I can’t turn off the switches without checking whether anyone else were using them. I can’t even go to sleep after packing my bag- I toss and turn in bed, worrying about what I might have forgotten –  I rush out and check.

It makes me mad. If I don’t focus on something else, my mind wanders off into its own pseudo-woods,  only to get lost amongst the labyrinthine arrangement of mental blocks – an endless array of worries and fears, doubts and concerns. I guess I have been subconsciously battling this – by being so damned random , or attempting to be witty and refined. Perhaps this fear compounds even onto itself-  A fear of having a fear , resulting in me having to check whether I actually possess this fear. I’m not even sure whether this was an one-off escapade, but I can’t even sit still, so it makes me worry whether I do possess such a horrid psychological trait.

It even covers up the other 2 deadly sins:  Sloth , the attempt to be lazy so as to not give in to the fear, and Wrath, anger at myself for not being able to double-check beforehand.

In summary, I learnt that I was a sinner. Cheerio.

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About Valence

I blog things.
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