Five months ago, when I just failed my first French test, I wrote the last journal, with full of sorrow. It was winter, the freezing temperature and heavy snow inspired the depression. Presently the two are gone, but the depression stays. Some weeks are better and other weeks are worse, better days are when I focused on something else, worse days come when there is too much me living inside me. Like what people said, the life needs a bit variations.
When I recall now, life did not usually go what I thought it to be. I cannot blame anyone, I am the guys who makes decisions within 2 seconds and change directions 270 degrees later(Decisioin on impulse). But when I was younger, there seemed to be always hope, possibilities meddled with the reality, I tended to brag to myself for a bright future, the man I will be, he will be like a lion on top the montain. Sadly, passions were gone quickly and my unreliable memory only reminds me of that when it was too late. Also, at the moment when I realized it was too late and if I found new targets(a different lion I guess), forgiveness was given easily. It was that all the confidence in the world were collected for me, all the things I wanted to do seemed just a inch from of my fingers. Learning the new nature/programming language, learn music, refine my computational geometry knowledge, being more socialized. they all looked doable, but I never estimated how long it will take. I claimed these are easy, but now I think of it, the reality teaches me what the "real" easy things are: "watching Netflix with beer and wasting time on cellphones". Hein, what a disappointment. The thought about the slightly better version of myself, he really requires not superpowers or being rich as Bruce Wayne. Nevertheless, this super-version is actually 100 steps ahead of me every day actually, I guess he would not feel sleepy anytime during the day, has an urge to eat something at 11 am or open YouTube pages from once stuck on bugs. He would somehow have energy and find the time to keep studying all those I promised myself. Inertia must not be an opponent for him. However, me of reality, is him just going to nulle place called boring life? It reminds me of Peter Parker who never became the Spider-Man, never was able to get Mary Jane. Is that so, in reality, most of us are that Peter Parker?
If only I can keep a mentality of this alternative spiderman warning forever. Unfortunately, on Mondays and Tuesdays, a voice in my head would start whispering again. "Forget about all the tasks. You can always do it tomorrow, Just continue on Netflix for next 2 hours, the dopamine will be happy". I could be even more toxic to myself as to others.
By just at this moment, I could not help trying to picture the guy I will be in the 30s or 40s if I stuck in this cycle. If I can have the concrete image of this guy, I could make a tattoo of him and he may be my ultimate cure. Nevertheless, it is harder to see this guy than the better me. Would I lose my job if I do not work as hard as I can, then I become unemployed? Probably not, I am capable to get the work done, but the career advancing seems unreachable. I will be the guy in the movies who never get promoted? Another part seems more obvious, I will certainly not be able to start a family. Will I be constantly in the lack-of-experience state with women and socializing in general? And...
It seems to be much harder to picture a loser than a perfect guy, as no one want to see this version of himself, for the same reason, it is much easier to be forgiving to ourselves than to others. The bitter truth is that if I do not want to face him, I will inevitably become him, and it will be too late.