Debate of Self-Worth

One of my many struggles is devaluing my voice and myself. I mean have not all stories been told already? Have not all problems been shared already? Why may my problems be important? It’s all been said already. That is how I see as to where I fit into this whole scheme of the world. I’m just another voice telling the same sad woe. So, what’s the big deal? Why are my words important? Why am I important?

We are bouncing off each other like the balls in a shaken glass box. From the wall to the shell of another ball to another ball and back to the wall. A hit after hit. A strike to the brains, ending up fuzzy and dazed.

Maybe I’m spiraling into a pit today. Bottom of the well. Throw in the bucket without the rope. The sad part is that it is how I feel most of the time. That is why I chose to be silent. What’s the point of speaking at all? What changes? What does my voice carry? I don’t feel like it’s hope. I don’t feel like it’s advice. I don’t feel like it’s anything worthwhile. It’s not ‘Eureka!’ Where is that lightbulb shining brightly above my head? Because the darkness that I carry is scary. It’s not positive or inspiring or even entertaining. That is why I don’t understand horror movies. How can we watch things being dismantled for pure entertainment? What does it say about us? Are we so violent and destructive? Are we all cruel? Addicted to watching suffering and pain?

I don’t know what all of this is. I have more questions than answers. And the questions keep on coming. I have no voice. I have no answers.

Purpose of pain. For education? For entertainment? It doesn’t perish. Constantly attracting us. Same story. Same voice. Same woes. I don’t see the importance of mine. I don’t even know if I make sense most of the time. Everything is in doubt including my worth, at least today. It’s one of those days. Feeling lost, hopeless, and worthless.

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“I don’t have anything interesting to say.” That sentence has haunted me all my life. The reason why I very rarely engaged in social behaviour. I would be that kid, teenager, adult, who sits in the corner trying to bleed in into the wall. Be invisible.

I avoided social gatherings. I still do. I avoided speaking. Still do. My wife does all the speaking and I hide behind her back. She’s my armour.

When we met, she was the one who spoke first and I said nothing. I ran. I literally ran. But she didn’t give up and kept on sneaking her way up to me and saying ‘hi.’ I was impressed. She didn’t mind the silence. The silence most people are uncomfortable with during a conversation, or when meeting someone, or when being on a date. She never minded the silence. She had the confidence I lacked. Over the years, her confidence shone onto me. The sun that I needed in finding my self-esteem and letting that seed grow. Little by little, it grew but I don’t think it has blossomed. It staggered and stopped. Sometimes my confidence, self-esteem, worth dies. I think today is that day.

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But “I am full of life experiences. I have a unique point of view. My experiences and perspective are valid and interesting.” CBT at its work. Keep on repeating. Keep on rehearsing until I believe it.