I couldn’t sleep last night. An inherent feeling of guilt overpowered me. I had vented how it makes me hate myself more when someone else achieves something amazing that I could never dream of. Well, there it is. THAT is the reason I have failed to achieve something good so far. In a mindless competition inculcated from my kindergarten days, I have forgotten how to be happy for others.
No, I won’t blame my upbringing for this. My parents didn’t impose a sick sense of competitiveness in me, it was I who conjured myself with a dangerous dose of “being perfect”. I was not satisfied easily, I wanted everything. End result: I turned out to be an attention-seeker with a not-so-subtle superiority complex, even before I realised this.
My relationships have faced the brunt of this. My friendships have suffered. Today I find myself, alone. No one to celebrate a new job with. No one to call when I am drowning in a gooey pool of dark thoughts. No one to hang out with when the four white walls of my room are choking me.
I wish I had realised it sooner. Before I had left my college Whatsapp group the instant I was handed over the graduation marksheet. Before I had convinced myself not to copy all the contact from the old phone to the new one. Before I had officially declared myself a pathetic sociopath.
Because, today, right now, I wish I was happier. For myself, for everyone.