Quagmire of Irrational Thoughts

posted in: Travel Blog | 0

This past week has seen me as drunk and out of control as I have been for the past 10 years. in between the booze and a bout of food poisoning and a few other nasty things, I have seen just how deep that dark crevice of self pity can really be.

It is very deep and it is very dark.

When my mates and I initially arrived in Hong Kong, we joked about how we simultaneously loved and feared Hong Kong. We laughed at how it eats away at your soul, just a little bit, but enough to be noticed. That was week 1. It is now week 6 for me here and I am beginning to understand what it means to be God fearing. It is simply too easy to fall out of control here and just lose your sense of who you are.

I am not one to usually bang on about this sort of thing – I don’t even like referring to the ‘Big Guy’ in terms of male/female, or even like to give him/her a name. Lets just call ‘it’ a ‘Higher Power’. For the longest time (15 years) I rejected my Catholic upbringing. I can very much say that I gave up on the concept of God whilst I was in my early 20’s. But I feel I need it/her/him more than ever now. I cannot explain why the change though. Perhaps I’ve historically had such a big ego that I denied my need for him, and the last 2 years has seen the bombardment and utter destruction of that ego and along with it, my sense of self identity- Who I am? What defines me? What I treasure most? What brings me to my knees in fear?

I am no closer to the answer now than I was as a 14 year old pubescent teen. Having said that, I have learnt a few valuable lessons about myself. The one thing I fear most out of everything else in this world is being alone. I hate being by myself.

Recently, I have often found myself in absolute loneliness, but still I am grateful for those friends who have held the lifeline out for me, sometimes it has been through constant day-in, day-out humour via text messages, at other times, it is a shot of encouragement or soul searching questions that refreshingly slaps me in the face. I am especially glad that one of my best friends is coming here with his beautiful family. He every-so-often sends me words of inspiration and pulls me back into reality, even though he lives 7,350kms away.

Maybe this is what they call abandonment issues? I read somewhere that people like myself – those who have lost a parent early on in life – can sometimes internalise incredible fear. Abandonment equates to fear. I remember as a 13 yr old I had such an intense dream; The Ghost of my Father appeared and told me I was the reason he died, the reason he left our family. It is the one and only dream I’ve ever had of my Father since he passed. Needless to say that fucked my week up, and it has remained with me to this day. But I digress. Continued abandonment creates a toxic shame. Shame leads to questions of self worth.

But the ridiculous truth of the matter is that this is no body’s fault. It is not my dad’s fault, and it definitely isn’t my mother’s fault – she did her very best to provide everything for us. It’s not even my fault. All this happened just because…. Because the Universe willed for it to happen? Perhaps because God wanted it to happen?

But is this an acceptable conclusion for me?

No. I did everything society demanded of me and still I struggle. Perhaps this is why I feel the need to reach out to something external. The inexplicable-ness of the situation means that I find myself reaching for answers from the inexplicable.

<Am I still even talking just about abandonment issues?>

I don’t have any answers and I’m beginning to think it is OK to ask for help.

Even if I don’t know who I’m asking.



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