Whosoever Holds this Hammer, if he be Worthy... (Follow up to first blog post)

I recently posted my first blog post in relation to mental health awareness week and depression, it was originally written back in September. I've just finished a follow-up blog post. In the interest of avoiding multiple tabs and links to fairly empty blogs, I figured I'd just post it directly here.
"It's been a while, many months in fact since I last wrote anything substantial, other than scraps of ideas and half finished drafts of works to come, so I figured it was high-time something else got written, something, for lack of a better word, real. A fair bit has happened since the first blog post, and circumstances have changed, so before I get into the juicy stuff, here's a quick recap.

Previously on Sofikles' Life:

• Attempted the driving test another couple of times
• Was offered a couple of teaching positions overseas
• Spent some time travelling
• Spent a lot of time unemployed
• Moved up to Edinburgh
• Decided to go back to camp

That's all one really needs to be aware of, I'm sure a few of you are already in the loop, and if you're not, well then, we should probably get round to communicating at some point.

My post camp confidence lasted until about early October, as my applications to various language institutes around the globe started to be less promising by the day, or so they seemed to me at the time. I was offered a pretty sweet position in Bolivia ( I know right?!) and I turned it down. My justification at the time being "Shoot, the pay just isn't good enough, there's no way I'll be able to save up for my return to NZ next year". After that, I sort of started to give up hope on the whole TEFL deal, things just weren't working out the way I'd hoped. Problem was, I was hoping for the wrong thing. I was dead-set on returning to New Zealand in 2018, that was all that mattered. I wanted to go back, and finish that damn degree. I was like a dog chasing a car, no, if I'm going to be accurate and honest, I'm going to express myself my way, in my terms, not just piggybacking off a common phrase that is only an approximation of how I felt.

Truth is, I felt quite a bit like Thor after being banished from Asgard. I needed to go back. Whilst Thor was hellbent on finding his trusty mallet, I was focused on finding that perfect TEFL position that would line my coffers and allow me to return. If it didn't guarantee a decent amount in my savings by 2018, then it wasn't going to happen.
In hindsight, I regret that decision, Bolivia would've been dope. There's no use dwelling on past decisions however, as I've recently come to realise. I am (fairly) young, in pretty good nick (physically at least, and mentally for the most part), and should be accepting these kinds of offers, for a man/boy who considers himself a traveler/wanderer, I'd done a right good job of putting the blinders on. Life's my oyster, Carpe Diem and all that.

However, the real point of this post isn't to dally on rejected job offers or the traveler's narrative I fancy so much. No, what I really wish to share are feelings of worthiness, self worth and the such. Hence the Thor reference ( I wasn't going to waste it solely on my desire to return to the Antipodes). Now I wish that I could have something as substantial and concrete as the action of lifting a hammer to prove my worth, but that isn't the case, as much as I may wish it to be true at times, life isn't a comic book. I won't be bestowed with the power of Thor once I've given proof of my worthiness, it doesn't work that way. I have an almost daily questioning of self-worth, with the regulars being "What are you worth?', "Are you worth the time and attention friends and family invest in you?","Are you worthy of their love?", "Are you good enough for it?", "Are you even a good person?", etc, etc.
Sometimes, you can shrug off the questions, sunshine and productiveness tend to help. Other times, and quite often, not so much. The questions hound you and bog you down, you never really know when they're planning on pouncing next. I've found myself surrounded by loved ones, and feeling very unworthy of even knowing them, let alone being friends or family with them. I wake up wondering if today's the day people figure out that they're probably better off without me, that I'm not good enough a friend or loved one, that they don't want nor need me. Will I even be worthy of remembrance?
I guess that comes to my biggest fear, a fear even greater than clowns or heights, or an empty audience. A fear that has been driving me since I became existentially self-aware, the fear of becoming forgotten. Maybe that's why I cling so fervently to folk that have left some sort of impact on the world: John Belushi, Christopher McCandless and perhaps most importantly Robin Williams. I relate to these souls, each hiding their own depths of pain, and here I am a kindred spirit (or so I tell myself). These people are remembered. Folk who've lived through unspeakable emotional pain (McCandless less so perhaps), and unspeakable it was, because they didn't talk about it. Yet despite having gone through that pain, or maybe thanks to it, they went on to achieve greatness in some regard, they brought light to other's lives, influenced them, changed them, perhaps for the better, or perhaps not at all. No matter what though, these people will be remembered. They have a legacy. My interest and fascination with myths and legends, both ancient and new, stems from their solidness, their endurance. Many of them have endured throughout the ages, and are still loved today. So what about me, what will I ever accomplish that will be remembered? What will my legacy be?
Heavy questions for a 14 year old Sofikles to deal with, and 10 years later, they haven't gotten any lighter. For a long time, I thought I'd be gone by the age of 28, I just couldn't picture myself living past that age. Not out of a desire to off myself (although I did toy around with the idea of a heroic sacrifice involving a burning building and puppies, this was later to be incorporated into a university assignment), but as a way to be remembered, as me, in my prime, before being popped in the time kiln and coming out old and cracked. Better to live a short and full life than an old empty one right?

Boy, what an absolute muppet I was. However those thoughts have taken their toll, and I find myself getting older, and feeling like I have nothing to show for it, and no idea of what my future will bring, having never really planned for it (as briefly touched upon in my last post). I'm sure many people feel this way at times. It's only natural to wonder about the future. It would be nice to not wonder about a future in which I'm gone and forgotten though.

I've gone off on a bit of a tangent, I know, but I've never been one for linear thinking, speaking or writing. I guess there's probably a few other fears knocking about in my noggin' as well, but I'll keep them for some other time. You've read enough of my rambling for now.

Sofikles"