In the last days I am wondering why I am such an unambitious person…
I was never very ambitious from the very beginning of my life, was always kind of not here nor there…always just by myself, always on the outside and always within my head. And, although I needed 25 years for it, I am fine with my ways in the meantime.
But ambition, determination and persistence were never character traits I could call mine.
Only two times in my whole life I developed something similar to an ambitious drive: when I started my first course of studies after finishing school and when I was anorexic.
I think we don’t need to talk about the quality of ambition of the latter (nonetheless, I’d still rather be anorexic again instead of this disgusting Binge Eating monster owning my life), but I went with such hopes into my first studies as I finally left behind the hell that was school and I got my way regarding my Major against my mother
….and then it all fell apart
..and yes, it broke me.
And although I am very satisfied with my current studies, I love it immensely, and my life can be considered stable at the moment (well, except for the mental issues but duh), the strength for ambitious outbursts is somewhat gone. I am afraid for good.
So I am that person who is never satisfied with where she is, but who will probably never come very far because she is too weak and to passive to fully immerse herself in something.
The one who does what she loves, but does it half-heartedly anyway.
And I realise it, this is the irony to it…
I wish I wouldn’t see it in myself at least and simply wallow my sorry ass in ignorance.