In the greatest of hindsight, I fail at being a person I like.
It’s true, I frequently turn to a largely critical assessment of me when I don’t even put others to nearly so hard a scrutiny. Right now it’s of a great desire to go back and read my past few posts because at the moment, I can’t recall in the slightest what I’ve actually posted about and am not sure if I am revisiting this so soon. I don’t like who I am. I tell me to change. I don’t. Then I don’t like who I am more for being indifferent. Then I don’t like who I am because I have this internal dialogue, yet remain unmotivated to keep the conviction of what I will change.
I lack conviction. Among other things. I say I will do one thing. I believe I will do one thing. I demand that I do one thing. Then I don’t.
When I’m merciful I blame it on circumstance. And to be fair, I don’t ever really make a conscious decision to do something else in lieu or against my goal. It just simply stops being something I remember. My girlfriend deserves more than that. She deserves a title better than “girlfriend” and certainly already has a status of such.
She’s taking a portion of my frustration and handling it better than me truth be told. She does deserve better.
Although, maybe I actually should cut myself some slack. I still retreat to some thoughts though ration and other’s ideas contradict them time and time again. Throughout high school I was convinced I wasn’t intelligent. I slept in class, avoided my homework and rarely did required readings. But usually aced tests. The joke became that I absorbed the knowledge by sleeping on the book as a pillow in the class. I didn’t frequently study for the tests but would always play a manipulation game with my nearby classmates after getting a test grade back. I wouldn’t shove it in anyone’s face by any means nor draw any outward attention towards it, but subtle cues allow for one to get another to unwittingly shout you got a 103 on the exam. I feigned indifference, because I had this character built up, I wanted them telling me how smart I was, because I needed that confirmed.
In spite of this, I frequently chastised myself for not being smart. Odd considering I seemed to have an innate understanding for the material being processed. Especially odd considering the people around me scoring lower, I didn’t consider to be beneath my intellect.
I even went so far as to rationalize that I had no significant intelligence, but a very good method of deceit. A superb manipulation artist. Funny to go out of the way to believe I’m smart. Especially when you have a college giving you a full scholarship. When you’ve been to the Intel International Science and Engineering fair as a finalist, not once, but twice. When after getting a first place at state science fair and interacting with others who nabbed the first place and looking to you in decisions and thought for some things with robotics and other activities. Funny to go past all that and still say you’re just really good at being a charlatan.
And yet, I still come back to it from time to time. I have even tried to compromise. Maybe I am not intelligent, but my clever wit must be enough that I could fool faculty members at a university. Pitiful. I often reject things of positive in myself. And the more I see it, ironically, the more upset I get for a slew of reasons.
For me, hindsight is always the perfect sight, it’s just not the lasting one.