So I started reading Walden again. Henry David Thoreau amazes me every time, his words wake all of my six senses and purify my soul the same way reading the bible could do to others. Every time I read it, it shines light onto my foolishness or a hidden wound deep in my heart and i end up finishing the book with a better attitude, a step closer to whom I want to be.


I am aware of my weaknesses now. And I accept them. I spent last 3 years in collge trying to make myself tough, so that when I’m faced with rather undesirable situations, I wouldn’t let them influence me. I thought, somehow I could be a strong person. Stronger than others. Sometimes, I put on a good poker face and made myself BELIEVE that i was stronger than others.


But Thoreau, this time, taught me how small I am. After all, I am human. I cannot be stronger than other human beings.


I am known to have so many bad habits. I stayed up really late sometimes, for no apparent reason, I sometimes starved myself, my drinking was often out of control, I overloaded my schedule with jobs that I can barely finish on time. I lived an extreme life. It’s like, I purposefully made my life hard to toughen me up. Thoreau says “public opinion is a weak tyrant compard with our own private opinion. What a man thinks of himself, that it is which detmines, or rather indicates, his fate” I think now, by doing all these difficult things, making my friends wonder, “jean, how do you live like that?” I put myself under the tyranny of my obsession with becoming strong.


The extreme way of life was in a way, to prove myself.. that I was strong… I guess, I was secretly telling myself, “what other people view as necessities, I don’t need them. I do all these bad things to myself, but look, I’m fine.” I hated myself for having fears, and I was uncomfortable being just me. I wanted to be someone better, someone close to being invincible.


But, I’m only a human. I have fears, I have weaknesses. The mere fact that I am a human being, that I am mortal, almost gives me the right to fear.


So hopefully, my self-destructiveness is over here. I don’t want to hate myself for being normal and mortal. Isn’t everyone’s ultimate goal of life to be comfortable with themselves, with who they are?


 

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