There were so many things that went through my mind today, but I fell prey to my old friends Procrastination and Laziness, so I didn’t get to pen them down in full.
I had surgery a few days back to hopefully and finally rectify the complication caused by my dislocsting my left shoulder last December. Today I found myself wanting so much to regain full ability of my left arm and shoulder. Although I’m thankful for the break from the military as I recuperate, I feel that, I’m so much less of a (young) man, not undergoing the rigorous training my peers are in the military, being unable to exercise so that I can acquire some semblance of fitness, being unable to do simple things such as put on a shirt on my own. I’ve become so dependent on others, so restricted in movement, so out of touch with what a guy my age ought to be doing, I just don’t feel good about myself.
And I want, I really want my left shoulder to finally heal up, so that I can exercise and be fit, so that I can undergo military training like any other guy at this phase of their lives and not be the one who just sits there and watch, so that I can be a young man and do whatever a young man can do, live a young man’s life, surrounded by people he wishes would be around him whenever he wants them to or needs them to. I want it, now.
Every time I enter the place where I have my military training, I always take note of one banner that goes something like it’s not what you leave behind, but what lies ahead. At the moment, a lot of what I see ahead is what I’ve left behind that had moved on without me. It is selfish to think that people ought not to move on when your life has entered a phase when you’ll lose touch with them somewhat. If I was going through the motions of military training I wouldn’t have the luxury to think of this as much as I do now. But I do. And though I try, it’s harder than it looks to take your mind off something like this.
I just don’t feel as important to my confindants as I used to prior to my enlistment. They have their lives to lead. I just don’t understand why I don’t have enough faith in my friendships with each of them to tell myself that, I am as valuable a person to them now as I was in the past. Or perhaps it’s because I’m using my own standards, and I feel that I’m not as valuable to them as they are to me. That, has been a factor as to why a few years ago I decided not to invest too much into friendships; because I get too involved, think more than I ought to, render myself insecure, that I rather just be a normal friend with everyone.
Then comes the desire to have a close friendship or close friendships that everyone else seems perfectly alright with having. But here I am, just a regular friend to every friend I can call my friend. I’ve gradually opened up over time, but I’ve still yet to find that comfortable in-between, having some really good friends I can be quite open with most of the time, while not expecting too much of them so that I don’t disappoint myself in needless moments of reflection like this.
Ignoring everything else that I’ve written, the bottom line is that, I feel that things have changed, in a way that’s unfavourable to me. And I want this change to change, such that it favours me. I want to be fully fit again, unrestricted by recovery from surgery, by torn labrums in shoulders. I want to be able to live like any normal young guy and maintain a healthy social life. But I want it now, and that’s where the problem lies. I need time to recover, and then to work the muscles in my left shoulder and arm so that they can operate like before, then to get fit, to go through military training and have a social life when I have the chance. I need time, before I can really become independent, before I can spend time with people I want to spend time with and I hope would like to spend time with me as well. I need time, before I can become whole, and be of value to those I value.
Cos as much as they can go on their lives without me, it’s harder for me to go about my life without them in it. And I really, really hate thinking like that again. I thought I’d gotten over thoughts like that. I really thought I did.
Day 4: patience – the gift of waiting.