"The Real Me"

I recently observed an IM conversation my elder brother was having with one of his friends. They were discussing temperaments and which they were. I had never really taken much interest before then in what temperament I was, and I began to get curious. However, my road has since been becoming rather bumpy, and I've had the tendency to get pretty down about life. I realized that it would be unwise to bother looking into my personality and give it a tag, as I'd likely come out with an incorrect, not to mention undesirable, conclusion. That reminded me of what my brother's friend wrote: her secondary temperament was one thing, but she wished it was another. It only now strikes me that, outside of the temperamental study, I have been making the mistake of viewing myself in that manner: "I wish I was."

The bumps in my road have really been my own unwillingness to accept myself. I've always been a bit insecure about my reputation, but for the most part that was the post-relational doubts on behavior and how I came across. My parents have repeatedly assured me throughout life that my friends probably wonder the same things about themselves and not to worry about it. Then, over the past few months, I became aware of the fact that, in my eyes, I'd been letting my life play it's usual routines without bothering to think about a bigger picture and exercise control over where I wanted to go in the long run. From there I fell into a mess of anxiety and depression and began wishing things were different.

Mind you, nothing had really changed; I was just discontented with how things were, how they had become without my paying attention. My temperament, though I didn't think about it in such a specific way, was not ideal. I wanted to be a different person. Not that I disliked my good points, when I looked at them; but it seemed I'd let myself develop without some awareness or drive that I wanted. I think what triggered these pessimistic realizations was meeting someone who made me look at my future, the rest of my life as an adult, which I suddenly could see was approaching way too fast. I must admit, I'm scared of what the future holds, and I don't know where to go. All I know is I can't hide. And I've questioned my ability to go anywhere as who I am. My struggles and faults have hung in front of my face in a paralyzing fashion.

I think back to my philosophy teacher distinguishing between reputation and character: reputation is what people think of you, while character is who you are. And he commented that his reputation is likely much better than his character. I can hear him saying, "If people knew who I really am, they wouldn't stick around me." I'm sure he was referring, in all seriousness, to whatever private issues he has as a fallen human. But I let that thought go too far in relation to myself. Honestly, who would want to have anything to do with me? I doubt anyone who knows me thinks ill of me: I'm always complimented on my smarts and sense of humor; I have a definite gift for making people laugh. Even my recent hardships have not had much bearing on how I relate to other people. Yet my insecurity when I'm alone has increased. "If they only knew the real me..."

But is that actually a truthful assessment? A spy's secret activities are opposite to the appearance he upholds; one life is a complete fake, a cover-up for his true self. That's not how I am. The very fact that I am distressed is an indication that I know what's right and care about it being that way. To judge my private imperfections as my true character would be as foolish as to mistake a current downswing in my outlook on life for my true temperament. My friends probably know a great deal of the real me.

Unfortunately, I expect too much of myself, staking too much on the idea that I can change; then, when things don't improve, I get down on myself. My dad summed up this problem quite well one time when we were talking: he said, "You want to be a saint now." I do, and yet I haven't had enough faith in myself to get anywhere. The best relief I get tends to be not thinking about anything, escaping the world and myself by wasting the days playing video games, working on piano compositions when I know they're going nowhere, or else doing nothing at all. But life won't stay on hold for me like that. I'm growing up, even though I'd really like to do as Hobbes does when life seems too complicated: take a nap in a tree and wait for dinner.

I hope I haven't come off as stewing in self-pity or anything. I've needed to look at myself as I would if I were someone else. I have a rather compassionate and understanding attitude toward others, and provide encouragement where they'll accept it. For some reason, this doesn't hold true for myself, as I'm almost predisposed to blame myself and get depressed. In order to believe in the great possibilities the future holds, I have to run a logical analysis of my situation from an slightly third-person view. I believe things are getting better, but I need to remain optimistic and give my wholehearted trust to God that everything will work out. While it has bothered me that I've seemingly been short-sighted about life, I think it would be best for me right now to not try to look at a much bigger picture.

So I conclude these thoughts. I write them not for your sympathy, but in case you can get something out of them for your own sake in life. May your road's bumps be manageable with God's grace.