They speak so loud

And over and over again, you are told that you should not be jealous of others; that you should be happy with what you have, because, hey, at least you have something, and you have what you have now because some cosmic force up there has decided that it is enough for you. And, if you do deserve more, then you will get it, someday, somewhere, somehow. In time.

You think about it, and you agree. Well, yes, I do have something. And, actually, I am better off now than I was before. Those stupid months I spent sulking in the corner, wondering why nobody is willing to take a chance on you. And now I do have someone, and I am happy. And you are happy. But then you see what everybody else is up to, and you don't anymore.

Why, you ask, do people choose to connect to other people rather than you? What makes them so special? What makes you so despicable? Did you do something wrong, somewhere, somehow, and suddenly you've been marked for life, like the way HR departments tell other HR departments that you fudged your job application and should thus never be hired? Did someone spread a malicious rumor about you, one that's very much untrue (which explains why you never heard of it) but very much potent, and suddenly you've been marked for life, like the way government officials publicly pronounce the evils of a predecessor they seemingly wholeheartedly supported just a day before?

Why, you ask, do people seem to have done more than you? They go to exotic countries and even more exotic restaurants. They go to isolated islands, proving that they have concern in their blood. They step up on soapboxes, proving that they have smarts, that they know what they deserve and will stop at nothing to get it. And you look at yourself and you think of what you've done and, yes, you have done some things, and you tell yourself that you're not rushing, and you're taking your time, and also, some good fortune teller has said that you will live until you're 95. But I feel inadequate. I feel like I have wasted my time, you know, doing the things I swear I was supposed to do. Or maybe it's because these people get accepted for doing these supposedly extraordinary things, and you're just getting by, and you're not special. Also, that nasty rumor.

And you start doubting the people who have taken a chance on you, the people who have decided that you are worth sticking with, the people who have decided that you are worth a million chances, if there were any. You are not a loser, they say, or not say. But then there's a bigger number of people who say, or not say, that you are. And you're told not to listen to them, because what they think isn't supposedly important. But there are so many of them. And they speak so loud. And do you even know how it is like to feel completely terrible about yourself, like you're stuck and you've got nowhere to go and you can do nothing else because you're not as capable as they are? And they speak so loud. Of course you will believe them. They speak so loud. And you ponder, which never helps, but you ponder anyway.

You've always had low self-esteem, and it's not right that you blame it on some traumatic experience. You've always had it. That's what you're feeling now. Most likely. You're looking down on yourself, and you're looking up om everybody else, and it's getting in the way of you believing every sincere statement you get. You've always been the guy who wants to know what everybody is up to, perhaps a bit to gain acceptance from other people, never mind that you are (and you're aware of this) looking weird and, therefore, not worth sticking with. You pay attention to detail, and you make the quickest connections, and you think that they are better off and you aren't. You blame it on one of those crisis things you get when you turn 25 but, no, you've always been inadequate.

But it's probably a state of mind. Just a state of mind. Go to sleep and wake up tomorrow (or the alarm will) and you'll do your routine and it will all be forgotten, temporarily, for now. It's too much, but you will forget about it, but it's too much, so you might as well be a hermit and stop living in a world so interconnected, what one does will certainly be picked up by another from time zones away. Or you might as well stop living altogether.

And your responses...

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