The Power of Insecurities

Although I admit that at times I enjoy isolation, I am a firm believer that life should not be enjoyed with isolation per se. I don't believe it's a happy way to live, to be honest. I was born in a family of five which grew to seven by the time I reached adolescence. I enjoy company very very much and noise, too. I love laughters and expression of joys, which have the intricate ability to cure the emptiness in our hearts. 

There is this one problem I currently have. It is not that big of a deal, I think, yet it bothers me a lot. Quite an issue of self-esteem and confidence, it is. I am a stubborn person, always decisive of how I would want to live my life. I prefer to believe in my decision so that later, if the time ever comes to regret that decision I made, I'll have no one to blame but myself. But I will never regret that I made a choice out of my own free will. It might have been a wrong choice, but at least I did not give in to destiny. 

As the days passed, the fight between myself and the voices around my head occurred more regularly. I see no sign of me giving up yet the voices kept coming back. Those are the voices of my insecurities. A powerful source of influence in my head, I dare say. Why, after all these years, have they come back to make me doubt myself? To somehow make me question every step that I take? To make me feel as if I should be doing something else rather than what I am doing now, which I do enjoy so very much? Why do the insecurities make me envious of others who have somehow moved on with their lives, as if I have not moved on with mind? Is it because of the isolation I feel with my own state of life? But I have great friends. No, it is not. The answer is simple - my fucking disproportionately ugly pride.

How does it relate? 

My pride has triggered within me the need to feel like I am doing the right decisions in life. It made me obsessed with being the best, though the efforts I make in improving the person that I am are far too lacking. Nevertheless, my pride is part of who I am. Neither can I discard it that easily nor even think to live without it. But too much of pride can harm a person's humility. I must learn to be humble. I must learn to be grateful of the time I have. The invisible race that I supposed I am in - did I not refuse to join it? 

Most importantly, I need someone to support me. I do have great supports from my family and friends. I love them. They believe in me. They are happy if I am happy. Yet, the confidence that possess the ability to set me ablaze in achieving my dreams came, of course, from my father. Not that he wrote letters to me or something. But I like the idea that each time I doubt myself, I have someone to call, to seek advice and to tell me that what I am doing is the right or wrong thing. I need someone I look up to, who knew me well, to give me perspective in life. I imagine myself in a vast sea, captaining my own boat - with pride, nevertheless - but zero experience. I know not what to expect, I know only what I want. And what I want could be foolish most of the time. So, who would be there to prevent me from heading towards the foolishness should that happens?