Self-awareness

Self-Awareness

Many times in my long and dreary life, I have been told that I am one of the most self-aware people. Self-awareness should be a gift, one that I should be thankful for and beg that my self-awareness may never dare slip. But truthfully, I hate my self-awareness more than anyone else. I hate it like I hate the marrow in my bones and my heart the insists to persist no matter how many times I have begged for it to stop. I am self-aware of my self-destructive patterns, and I am aware of the solutions to get out of these loops, yet I am also aware that I will never follow that advice. I am aware that I will climb and climb a staircase to what should be named absolution, yet I always trip on that staircase and roll, tumbling down headfirst. I look up at that beautiful light, and my soul yearns to touch it, yet my curiosity peers down at that darkness that I had once called home, and again, I dip my toes in it.

I am self-aware that I am arrogant selfish, and that I am a liar, yet I won't fix these because I am self-aware that these traits make me who I am. Self-awareness not only lets me see that I know every part of myself but also lets me see how truly hopeless I am. I work and work until I reach the grave, and yet every time I reach the grave, I tell myself that I have so much to live for. I fight, and I fight like a man on the frontlines, yet it is a losing war. Forever will I be stubborn as a mule yet as smart as the weeping crow. I do ponder upon what my life would be if I was not so self-aware. If I were an ordinary fourteen-year-old child who looked at their life from only one angle and not every angle that he could?

One day, I will be so self-aware that I will struggle with my emotions, I will truly struggle to stay truthful to myself because I will be aware of my every flaw and erase them so that way I am perfect to everyone on the outside. I will be so aware that I will know my next moves three years in the future when I think before I do something. I wish that I could cut this curse out of my bloodstream and burn it in a raging inferno so that way I may never face it. I wish I weren't so aware and judgemental of my self-destructive patterns. I have many wishes, for I am a greedy man, but I wish, truly, that someday I could use my self-awareness to fix things and not just stare through a mirror as my world burns at my feet. Truly, if I were to frame my self-awareness as something physical, I would frame it as a person in a glass box sitting on the floor, aware of everything around them. Outside of that box, the same person stands there, except that person is slowly dying. That person in the box is aware that the other person is dying but can only watch helplessly from that glass box as they are forced to watch the other person rot away in their very face.

Depressing, isn't it? But that is the true and harsh reality that I live in. That glass box surrounds my mind, and my heart is allowed to be free without anyone to reign it in or stop it.