Self-awareness Or Self-Destruction?: They say that it’s all in your mind as if you are sitting and making up some scary monsters in your head. Why would someone do that to themselves? Why would you and I torture ourselves with something that’s not even real? Well, the monsters living in my head are real, for sure, and I can prove it to you. I can prove that anything and everything that I feel is not because of my anxiety.

It is because people have made me feel like this, and the terror of getting followed by those emotions really sucks all your energy, and then you just hate everything at once.

Let’s face the truth for once and all. We all claim to be kind and carry empathy in our hearts, but just look around and tell me, ‘Are you actually kind, or are you just making yourself believe that you are kind?’

I know this question can be triggering but answer it. Try reflecting on yourself, the real you. I know myself, and I know that deep down, I just try to be as kind as I can be, but sometimes, I fail. I yell at people, and I say wrong things just to put them down. And trust me, I hate this version of me, but see, there’s a catch.

The catch is that this is a part of me but not the whole me, yet most of the days, I beat myself up for being a little mean to someone. I call myself self-aware, but too much awareness has always backfired on me. I have to sit in self-loath and guilt where I just lose myself every second. 

So, are you self-aware? Or rather, just say, self-destructor? Well, my self-awareness is quite detrimental, and this evaluation is also an adversity of my so-called ‘self-awareness’. I guess knowing too much about yourself comes with a cost.

You know the reasons behind all your issues, and when you can’t fix the shit, you just feel more miserable. I mean, how much of a failure am I, who cannot even fix an issue when I know the problem and the way to solve it? Yay! This is where self-hate talk starts, and soon, you will start hating your own reflection. All you can see in yourself are some great flaws that can never be mended. 

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Trust me, it is tiring to be the one who knows themselves. There is no mystery left to solve, yet you find new things about yourself, which leads to the same old trauma you had since your teenage.

I feel like I am a time bomb, and the clock is running fast, and soon, it will blast me into pieces that I won’t be able to pick and fix. Ah! What should I do? What would you do? What would a self-aware person do?

I think, therefore, I am – said René Descartes, who, by the way, is a great philosopher. However, he never said anything about thinking too much. Maybe he never thought that hard, or maybe he was sane enough to give some great philosophies to the world and not get eaten by his own head.

My thoughts are the reason I am depressed, but those thoughts only make me. So, do you see the irony here? It’s frustrating as hell. Don’t you see this? 

Well, let me paint a picture for you. Just a disclaimer: the picture can be ugly and may trigger you. Imagine that you had a shitty day at work. You were yelled at by your boss for a very minor mistake, and you got a call from your friend asking for some help.

You try to be nice and kind and help your friend even when you’re feeling shitty inside, and you don’t bother them by not sharing whatever happened to you. Now, you do this every now and then, but one day, you are on the edge, and you yell at someone who just asks you to fill up a form for them because they are not able to understand it.

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The clock is ticking, and within a few seconds, you know that you are being an arsehole for yelling without any reason. You feel sorry and you apologize. Then, you try to make up for it by helping them fill out the form.

However, you’re too self-aware, so the guilt stays on. Yay! It stays, and your self-aware brain reminds you of this again and again, even after weeks. Now, you know what your brain is trying to do, and then you try to make yourself understand that whatever you did, there was a reason, and you did apologize. And now this mess in your head gets tangled and spirals.

You remember the days when people make you feel shitty. You can feel the moment when nobody showed up for you when you needed them most. You feel bad for yourself, and then it hits you. You made someone feel bad, and now, again, you are the monster.

The monster gets bigger and bigger as it feeds on guilt and regrets. Then monsters make your head their home and slowly eat you alive. See, I don’t know when the monster came in. I don’t know whether it knocked on my door or not. I just know that it’s there, and it’s real.

The monster is real, and you can’t say otherwise. I guess, all of my cages are mental and I am trapped in it forever. Look at this shit I have written. It’s all about me, which perfectly concludes that the monster in my mind is not anyone but me. And I know this about me.

I am living with this information about myself. I cannot deny it and I can’t even dare to fight it because it will lead me to the same path where I see myself as the wrong one and despise myself for my entire life. I have taken over my head completely. It’s all in my head. It’s all me – the real monster in my mind.