My own 9-11

Yeah, this is my personal 9-11. As the Earth slowly approaches its apogee for the four billionth time, my life seems as uncertain as Schroedinger's cat in the box. This uncertainty, ideally, is a part of everyone's life, and most deal with it with their left hand. But I seem to have zero ability to do so as I advance in age. I was perfectly alright as a child. I didn't have anxieties nor did I care so much about my future to the point where I broke down and could not function normally. In fact, it was the opposite; I seemed to have infinite confidence in my abilities. In a way one could say I was flowing, as beautiful as a waterfall not yet discovered or tainted by human activity. I really do wish it remained that way.

I can't help but wonder when that waterfall dried up. It chewed up and spit out anything that came its way, all kinds of big rocks and fallen trees alike. I could think of so many instances, all of which had a cumulative effect of killing it slowly, and in the process, me as well, from the inside. The day I started trying to fit into society was the day that this cancer started growing in me. High school. Teenage. Wanting to get along with everyone. Start pleasing everyone. Lose yourself. Forever. My inner water-bending child is DEAD definitively. Not one single redeeming quality from that era persists in me anymore. I search for that child who was brave enough to face anything with a childish innocence and blissful ignorance, who was brave enough to do the things he liked without a care for the world. I yearn for his strength. It's not like I don't like doing the things I do now, and I have pretty much grown out of the people-pleasing phase, but somehow I don't like anything as DEEPLY as I used to. That lost passion really makes a lot of difference in life, it's one of the worst things to happen to someone, it's literally their life-force. Man, I really do not want to whine like I do right now, sitting at my office instead of doing the work I was supposed to do because I had an anxiety attack, the good ol' self-sabotage because of some bullshit that my brain cooks up like a chef who hates his master and wants to assassinate him with poison.

Why I have an anxiety attack? Somehow subconsciously, my brain believes that I cannot accomplish my goals, to become a decent enough engineer/scientist who can think for himself and be original, rather than the hive-mind you see today in research. FEAR OF FAILURE.

To counter this, I have attempted to approach life as rationally as possible, but each day it only seems like I move farther and farther away from rationality. Pretty ironic given that I am in STEM. I hate that I seem to lose control of my brain with each passing day, and it takes immense effort to get into the zone so that I could get things done. One thousand different things in 4D tug-of-war in my brain. Pure chaos. And then there are rare glimpses of clarity and peace. Oh, how wonderful it would be to be in that state 24/7!!

One thing's for sure, something is definitely wrong with my brain chemistry. This is NOT how a normal brain works. I know that because I used to be normal, I used to not feel like shit all day even after I worked myself to death. Accomplishing tasks meant something. It's a;; gone now.

But, I refuse to yield to my own brain. Why do I have to bear that kind of abuse forever? I will fight back, brute-force it all the way until one of us dies. Every single time I get triggered by external events or a random memory, I am gonna literally pull myself out of that miserable 7 rings of Dante's hell and not allow myself to wallow in my own vanity. You ain't that serious, lil bro. Put your head down, shut the fuck up and just focus on the task at hand. Pull yourself together. This is NOT the time to be a vain bitch. You can do that when you can fend for yourself.