So by now, you’ve probably realised what I feel my purpose is in life. It’s to make a difference in others’. So yeah.
I’m writing this on a Wednesday, but I’m going to sound like I’m trying to piece my thoughts together, thoughts that are worlds apart, on a dark Sunday night, when I’m feeling half-assed, lonely, and overwhelmed all at the same time. I apologise. It’s just that I’ve had an emotionally exhausting week thus far, and I didn’t realise it until tonight.
You see, one of my best friends, more like a brother to me since my first day in Primary school a good 12.5 years ago, said something that I can’t get out of my head. He was in a bit of a daze; he didn’t seem so focused. He called me up after of the toughest experiences a male here can go through, and he was feeling bad about having to call me. “You’re someone that’s there for everyone, and I’m calling you up because I can’t do that and I need you and instead I need you.”
“I need you”. Honestly, that line really melts me inside. They don’t just want me around. They need me. I live my life for the people around me, so if people need me, then maybe I’m relevant. Maybe I’m contributing to their lives. Maybe I matter to them. Maybe they need me. I don’t get that so often. But hang on a second- words like these are a double edged sword. And so it got me thinking about how much I do for other people.
I love helping others. I love being there for others. Nevermind my happiness, that’s currently trapped in a void I don’t dare to enter. But seeing my loved ones happy makes me happy too. And contributing to that, in my opinion, is the best thing I could do with my time. To put it very bluntly, it’s my validation mechanism. When I contribute, I feel like I’m doing something worthwhile with my life.
But there’s an ugly side to it. This ugly truth, I’ve grown to realise over the years, especially in the last 2 years. I’ve spent my whole life trying to rekindle others’ flames. In my desire, my desperation to do this, I’ve ended up diminishing my own.
Contributing to others’ lives is meaningful, and deeply satisfying. But it also means you give a part of yourself to them. And you exchange it for a piece of them. More specifically, their pain. Their pain may not directly hurt you, but it lets a couple more droplets of water fall over your fire that once burned bright. And as the days, months, years, go by, the clouds above your flame get darker and darker.
And so you try to suppress it. You tell yourself, that these clouds are not there. You tell yourself that helping others only ends well. You tell yourself that helping others is not hurting you, but is giving you purpose. You suppress the darkness, until eventually, it pours all over your flame. And poof.
I don’t know how to end this post, really. If this could be considered an SFD, it’d be a really shitty one. I’m just tired of being the source of life for others. Giving out my light shreds away at me, and I don’t know if I can grow faster than I get shredded at. I’m trying my best.
But if you didn’t realise already, another reason why I help is that I don’t want others to go through the emotions that I experience. They are inevitable in everyone’s life, yes, but I don’t want people to overwhelm themselves with those emotions the way I do.
Sadly though, when I try to pull them out of their pool, I drown in my own a little more.
Find me on my better days / to lose it once again
Because I seem to find no better way
To consciously pretend
In a way
Tonight The World Dies – Avenged Sevenfold