The Rigid Selves
I believe the truth in all matters really is to be true to you no matter what. I’ve read countless hubpages about such matter and all hold to the same nature. I constantly have to question my intentions here on hubpages, what type of attention/traffic I’m writing for. only because there’s no end to the persistent yearning to make something of myself. At the age of twenty-one, it is all I can I say that I’ve only accomplished one great thing in my life and that is my daughter. However, what effort really have I put into even that, it certainly isn’t as much as I had thought I would? But is it enough? ?
This contemplation is a constant in my mind, what is anything for? I can sit here and call myself a sufferer of a diagnosis that has brought me to this state of mind where all I do is question my surroundings. The problem with this assumption is that everybody asks this same question. What is the purpose of doing anything, why do you falter onward when we know where it’s going to lead us? Is the problem that I don’t have a system of belief, that’s the answer I receive from some. It is that I need to lay a foundation of faith so that I can focus my mind on getting better. That becoming a person deep rooted in the fundamentals of a type of system will help save me.
I believe though, I’m sure that’s what they don’t realize. Or am I really sure of that? I don’t know, but I do believe. Like I mentioned before, it’s hard but there is that desire to be true to myself. That's the faith is deep within two halves that make up the whole of me.
There are two parts to myself; there is the doubting one who is in this permanent state of dismissal of just about everything. It doesn’t care and holds no faith. It doesn’t believe nor does it endure in all times of hardship. It destroys the happiness when it comes and holds onto sadness for dear life. It retains this rigid shape in relation to life, never yielding to the wind or bending in approval of anything really. This part of me, this part of me doesn’t even bother to hide in the face of rejection. It subjects itself to the inconsistencies and tendencies of my incapacitations. It buckles under the whims of negative thoughts without failing. I’ve found that it succumbs easily to the “diagnosis”, throwing upon it all the burdens just so say I have found my excuse. That’s the part of me that when I’m losing my initial will to keep going on, it screams out the necessary things to damage my will.
Then there is the other part of me, willing, able, and trudging on because there is hope in life. It cares and holds onto faith. It believes and endures in all times of hardship. It acknowledges the sadness but knows happiness will always prevail. Continuously it bends, making itself flexible to allow anything positive to hold a place in my heart. This part of me, this part of me doesn’t hide the face of fear either, and it does bare it’s all, but it does so with an iron shield and an echoing swords (it keeps resounds with power). It seems my incapacitations but knows there’s knowledge and desire enough increase the success I’ve stumbled on in the various aspects of my life. It takes the “diagnosis” and discards it, saying it has no use for such nonsense. That’s the part of me that when I’m losing my initial will to keep going, it screams out all the necessary things to strengthen my will.
Inevitably these two meet and clash heads, releasing both of their essence and expecting me not to be weakened by the battle they have just fought. I don’t’ want either parts of me to leave though, I need them both, I think I do anyway.
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