Self-reflection can be a son of a bastard. The reflection of yourself from a mirror 10 meters away allows you to believe anything you want. You can come closer to see the blemishes on the surface but you need to painfully open yourself up with a knife to see the inside.
In your 20’s you can chalk up all flaws and failures to external factors and the idea that it just hasn’t happened for you yet. A short journey from home doesn’t give one much perspective but a long enough travel allows you to compare your patterns and path to others.
To see where I have strayed alone so often when others have mixed footsteps together to meet at a similar destination forces me to question the nature of my behaviour and the origin from where it was birthed.
With not enough deficiencies to significantly hinder one’s life, the need for introspection and self-improvement does not make the bucket list. The possibility of poor character and shortcomings deflect off of the protective ego. Ignorance is bliss.
Time you cannot get back nor can you postpone. Travelling so far from home wandering halfway through life just to trek all the way back to reinspect where you came from is a mental beating. When it all makes sense it also makes torment. Living life blindly and ineffectively is a waste once you are able to see.
Playing the role of a victim can only come after one believes there was a perpetrator. It stops the bleeding but the wounds never heal. It’s a more calming position to be in than being unaware of the root of your frustrations but it’s not progressive.
Your circumstances may be of no fault of your own but you still have to live with them and the predispositions that they offer. Having to navigate life with a collection of unrecognized disabilities garners no compensation or sympathy.
The past will become your future if you refuse or are unable to acknowledge the problematic issues. The more time that goes by the more likely your past and present will solidify into your future. There’s often a point of no return.