On Self-Image: What Kind of Person am I?

I almost always screw up during interviews, even in the first two questions. I screw up in “tell me about yourself” and “what kind of person are you?”

It is not that I don’t know myself. I have been trying to psychoanalyse myself in the last three years. However, the more I figure out, the more I find out the stranger in me.

I once read a concept called ‘self-image’. Basically, it is the way I see myself. It can be personality, occupation, dream, looks, etc.

Psychologist often differentiate person as having positive and negative self-image. Those with positive self-image perceive themselves as good, unique, smart, cool, beautiful, handsome, popular, open-minded, noble, modest, or/and other positive attributes anyone may think of. 

Meanwhile, those with negative self-image oftentimes see themselves as insufficient, shy, small, ugly, boring, unworthy, stupid, short, lazy, evil, broke, sensitive, fat, weird or/and other negative attributes.

The problem is that either need validation or acknowledgement from others. The positive self-image people need it to ensure that they are still what they think. For example, a ‘popular’ person will re-think about his/her popularity when his/her tweet only gets 3 retweets. 

If a ‘popular’ person lost his/her popularity, what is he/she, then?

Similarly, those with negative self-image also requires other people’s opinion and comment to help them improve. A person who was labelled ‘insufficient’ by his/her parents/lover will try so hard to do anything perfectly and in order. It is to please that person or merely to make him/her feel better about him/herself.

What about me?

I have been trying to kill my self-image.

I see self-image as a house. When I was born, I didn’t have it. Then, I started piling up bricks and building some walls to protect me from the rest of the universe. There are many rooms in my house. I name it confident, smart, introvert, open-minded and weird. There are actually many more rooms in the dungeon; but it is too dark to even identify what is what. I painted and renovated my house several times. People always have something so say about it. Sometimes they said it is too big, too small, too light, too dark.

I am destroying my house from the inside out.

My self-image is as imaginary as the house. They both are built upon thoughts and stories that I—or others—have been trying to liven up and materialise in my head.

So, what kind of person am I?

I am both smart and stupid. I am aware and ignorant. I am a hard worker and lazy person. I am both handsome and ugly. My life is both useful and useless. I am sympathetic and apathetic. I am worthy and worthless. I have experienced life and death.

I am everything and everything is me.

Before me, the energy—that forms me—floated around in the universe. After me, the energy will float again.

Am I the vessel or the energy?

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Last year, I posted something on this topic, but it is more of a rant (https://nantahananta.blogspot.co.id/2016/02/our-little-secrets.html). 

The boy who turns

Today, I wake up very early in the morning. I cannot find my way back to sleep. I do not find my phone and everything in it interesting. So, I cannot help but sitting and contemplating, as usual. I hate to point it out and say to myself that I am 24 now. Maybe, it is just a mechanism created by my mind to deny the fact that I am getting older and I am no longer a boy; that I have to take everything more seriously; and that I am now belong to the society more than to me.

I am not finished with myself as a boy. I like being a boy capable of expressing my self. I’d like to live my life in the ‘now’ without yesterday’s regrets and tomorrow’s expectations. I am still enjoying my journey of finding myself. I have not found my passion yet, not to mention my truest self.

They ask me to take everything more seriously. Well, I can’t! I cannot put all my heart into anything I have no idea about. I am still detaching myself from my belief, both familial and cultural. I want to inspect and select everything for myself. I want to live my life as me, not as my parents’ shadow or as the mainstream society. I want to have and realize my own dream, not their unfulfilled dreams.

Now, society will start prying my eyes to look through the lens of their ‘reality’ and to pursue their version of success. They expect me to be a good worker, spend my wage, and not die. They want me to be a good functioning person, which is defined as a person who don’t question and just accept everything; a person who is smart enough to think—and work—but not too smart to realize; and a person who is like other millions of people whose sense of identity, happiness, and pride depend on how famous, beautiful (or handsome), or rich they are. 

Speaking of pride—it may sound like a conspiracy theory, though—I think, it is just an empty words designed to control the majority. There is no reason to be proud of just being Indonesian/American/Man/Woman/Muslim/Christian because pride is something we earn or we get after trying hard. It is an achievement, not just something we have when we are born or simply convert into. That word is used to invoke blind determination/struggle on the outcome desired by some.

One more thing, to be a good functioning person, I have to marry and have children. This may sound ridiculous, but I think this overpopulated world has enough ‘unattended’ and ‘unmanaged’ hungry children. Why would I be so egotistical to spread my mediocre gene to the world? Is there no other meaning which can make my life meaningful other than this?

Perhaps, I am just too scared and irresponsible to handle children because I know that every baby look upon their parents as perfect beings. And I know that neither do I, nor everybody else is perfect. So, there will always be gap, an unmet expectation: childhood trauma, either emotional, psychological, or physical. This childhood trauma will influence the children forever, as me and everyone else. It is like a burden we are doomed to carry around. We can’t function maximally until we accept it, unbind it, and be at peace. How to deal with this depends on each person. Regardless, I am not ready to create and deal, or let my children deal with the burden.

I am a boy who enjoys walking and taking paths unaware of the consequences in the long run. I simply walked on the path that I liked. Now, however, I am facing a big diverted roads, and I have to decide which road to take. I know that at the end, every small path will lead to bigger roads. Every individual will be a society. Every colorful soul will be monochromatic swirling energy. It is not so grim, though. For the better or worse, each individual sound will turn into universal symphony.

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Meaninglessness

It has been a while since the last time I posted on this blog. Writing has always one of my favourite things, yet, I had no impulse to play the tuts on the keyboard lately. 

This takes me back to last year when I was a tour guide. At that time, on a holiday season, I took too many tourists to too many places, which nauseated me. It bores me. By then, I cannot differentiate working to vacationing. Everything is mingled into a greyish dough of monotonous boredom. I did not know what to do when I was not working since I associated vacationing with working.

This scares me. I am afraid my current job, which involves a lot of writing, has turned another colour in my life into other monochromatic radiations. I am now associating writing with working.

What scares me more is that the possibility that writing is not really my passion, which means that, at this moment, I have nothing to lean on and to project into, which means that another meaning of my life is gone, which means that my life is getting more and more meaningless than the meaningless state of what it has been.

I guess I am turning into the man of this new era. I am good at nothing. I am only doing something for the betterment of my life, to purchase things for the sake of my survival and petty needs of instant self-gratification.

I am only a meaningless-replaceable spectator, watching other people success and excel at whatever they are doing. I watch football/movies, see successful entrepreneurs or read novels/books without being able to properly play, start a business, act or write. I do not even know what my true passion is, let alone to go for it.

As far as I can think, I am very good at being a sheep, walking only to the direction set by the shepherds, or by fear of their dogs. I am a very good citizen, I work hard to buy many things. 

I exchange my labour with junk food I ate more than what my body could handle, and sometimes buy some fancy stuffs to feed my fragile ego that needs constant confirmations and acknowledgments.

I wish I were born in Mecca or Medina 14 hundreds years ago. I would have struggled and fought side by side with Muhammad PBUH. Else, I would prefer to be born a century ago, so I could be with Soekarno, defending my country.

Sometimes a part of me wonders, ‘why am I here? What contribution do I make? What in this world is better because of me?’

…and then, another part of me answers, ‘Nothing I can think of’.

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Energi

Bintang

Dari sekian banyak konsep-konsep Sains yang saya pelajari di SMA, hanya ada beberapa yang masih saya ingat sampai sekarang, salah satunya adalah konsep Fisika mengenai Energi yang bunyinya kira kira seperti ini: ‘Energi tidak dapat diciptakan ataupun dimusnahkan, namun energi dapat berubah bentuk’. Selain itu, saya juga ingat bahwa segala sesuatu yang ada di alam semesta ini terbuat dari energi. Jika diurutkan dari elemen penyusun yang paling kecil, manusia terbuat dari energi yang kemudian membentuk atom; kumpulan atom itu kemudian membentuk sel, jaringan, organ, dan terbentuklah manusia. Begitu pula dengan hewan dan tumbuhan. 

Bukan hanya makhluk hidup saja yang tercipta dari energi, namun benda mati juga tersusun atas kumpulan energi yang membentuk atom-atom. Selain hal-hal kecil tersebut, benda-benda besar juga terdiri atas energi dan atom-atom. Sebut saja bintang yang ada sebelum masa-masa adanya manusia. Ketika terjadi ledakan Big Bang, energi dari bintang tersebut tidaklah musnah, melainkan tersebar dan sebagian membentuk bumi, tanah, samudera, pepohonan, dan bahkan manusia. Ya, jika ditelusuri, bintang merupakan nenek moyang dari manusia. Kita memiliki elemen penyusun yang sama dengan bintang-bintang di atas sana, sehingga ketika kita meneropong sebuah bintang (yang mungkin sudah mati jutaan tahun yang lalu), berarti sekumpulan energi sedang mengamati kumpulan energi lainnya.

Kerapkali terngiang di benak saya bahwa kita sebenarnya tersusun atas materi yang abadi. Kita sudah berada di sini milyaran tahun atau bahkan dalam waktu yang tak dapat dibayangkan oleh akal pemikiran manusia paling jenius sekalipun. Ketika saya mati nantipun, saya akan tetap berada di sekitar sini dan mungkin akan menjadi pembentuk makhluk hidup lainnya atau mungkin benda mati. Satu yang pasti, saya hanya akan berhenti mejadi seorang Hananta.

New Phase: Working (2)

It is quite really hard to find the apt job for me. It has been three weeks since I applied here and there to some companies. Within that period, I was called four times for interview. Jocularly, nothing’s work! Two companies actually offered me a job, but I did not feel like signing the contracts. It not solely because of the salary, it was either the crazy working-hours or location. I did not come to the other two interviews since: 1) I was too late to realize that the invitation email was spammed for almost two weeks and 2) I found out that the job offering was fictitious and they are just looking for some gullible and desperate people generous enough to spend their real money on crap products as the requirement to get the aforementioned fictitious job.

I realize that the problem, however, is not entirely in the jobs, though; it has always been in me. I suffer from acute anxiety that I will be trapped in a perennial contract with unhappiness and daily exhaustion that will continually suck the life and humane out of me. The thing that I fear more than being a slave of routine—which is inevitable—is being a soulless machine. I am aware that I will be a mere screw in a gigantic machine of capitalism; and that the choice that I make is influential in what my future career—or life—will most likely be. 

It is not that I am unaware of a metaphor that I will not make any step if I was just wondering, predicting, and researching what the upcoming road will be; I am just thinking whether I choose the nature of the work I will do all day or the quality of dinner I will have at night.

New Phase: Working

I remember one day my mom said to me that when people were young, they sacrifice their health searching for money, and when they are old, they sacrifice their money for their health.

Now, I have finally arrived at the finish line of my study at the university level. My responsibility, therefore, changed from studying to working—or earning money. In my whole life, I have been thinking that job is what defines a person. I have seen a lot of people change as they got a new job. Also, I have seen my friends change as they changed their jobs.

That is why I have not decided to apply for any permanent job yet. What I do for a living is just doing some freelance jobs like translating and tour-guiding. 

I have been a translator for about two years English-Indonesia and vice versa. The money is agreeable, but I have to work more than 9 hours a day. I do not know if it is OCD or what, but I cannot take any rest knowing that my assignment is still unfinished. That is one of the reasons why I can finish my skripsi (final research paper) on time.

Another job from which I get money is by tour-guiding. The salary is not really satisfactory, though. I was paid 150.000 IDR a day by the office, but it does not include tips from outlets and the tourists. So, it is the least that I can get in a day. In fact, the last time I did the tour-guiding, I earned 500.000 IDR a day; that was the sweet part. The bitter one was when I forced myself to do the tour-guiding when I was sick—and fasting. About a week ago, I got fever and a laryngitis—a very badly inflamed throat. I was far from home and did not have any money left, so I had no choice but to work. To pay the doctor, then, I did the tour-guiding with all the pain. I walked and explained the places to them painfully. I sacrificed my health to pay the doctor for my health. 

That is life.

I was offered some jobs in Bandung though; from the place where I had my internship program, a multinational company where my high school friend works, to working in a language center with a promising prospect of getting a scholarship and asked to be a lecturer. I, however, have not said a word to any of them for I am not staying in this city. 

I know that these offering might be the best opportunity that I blew; I know that I might the stupidest person to ignore the offering; and I know I might be regretful later.

But… 

I know one thing. What happened is what should happen. Besides, I like it when my life is unpredictable; not knowing what will happen tomorrow. I might sleep with a full or starved stomach.

I am sure that I will not be like this forever. Even an idealist will have to change to be a realist. Yet, for now, I like being what I am.

Random Spectrum

Four years has passed and now he was at the end of his time being in that university. It feels like he has just registered a few months ago. His life could have been boring and flat if he were rich, clever, and a bit more extroverted—the adjectives that he always wished for. He now realizes that even the worst things conspire to color every moment in his life. It is neither black nor white, but it is a random spectrum that he—or even anybody else—cannot explain.

***

Finding out that the tuition was too expensive, he went home thinking, ‘who need college? I can find a job and help my parents instead’. At midday, he got into his home, threw his bag, and said to his parents that he preferred to work than study.

“Do you know what you are doing? Thousands of people out there desperately want to go to college and you just blew out your chance”, his dad said.

With a sigh, he explain, “well, we currently do not have ten million, right?”

After a long debate, he went to his room, threw himself to the bed,  and checked his phone. One of his high school friends texted him, ‘have you registered yet?’

‘No. I cannot pay the tuition. I will look for a job instead’, he replied.

She wrote, ‘do not give up man! Here, call this number’, then she gave him a phone number of an academic directorate in the university he was registering.

After calling the number, he rushed to the university. At 3 p.m. he got into the university and met the directorate.

With a smile on his face, he went home and told his parents that he was a university student. Little did he know that meeting and knowing the directorate would be one the best things that could ever happen to him.

Later, he would be grateful that he was not rich.

***

In the first days on college, he felt so little and desperate finding out that he was surrounded by clever people. Moreover, he was so clumsy and shocked for the different customs, cultures, and mannerism that he had never known before.

His thought of being inferior materialized into his reality. He was both shallow and non-exist in his own mind and [probably] in campus life. Miracle, however, came; that was when strange things happened. His friends started saying that he was clever. That was quite a motivation to him. If he were really clever, he could have thought, ‘yes I am’, and then drown into the sea of pride. However, he was not clever, that was why he felt the pressure when his friends said so.

Being said ‘clever’ produced a grand responsible for him.

Later, he would be grateful that he was not clever.

***

He did not have many friends. Most of the time, he was seen to be alone, waiting in the gap of classes for hours. Unlike people who could easily get along with others, he was weird and somehow unsociable.

However, he was never found weeping. In fact, he enjoyed it. He thought, ‘I am what I am; and I will be what I must be. I will not be people pleaser’. He was a nonchalant and thus, he was sure that whoever wanted to be his friend, was his real friend. That was quite easy. Being a weirdo, moreover, made him really sensitive so that he could understand other weirdoes.

Later, he would be grateful that he could graduate because of his weirdness.

***

If he were rich, clever, and more extroverted; everything would have been too easy. He knew that good stories are those that have conflicts, ups and downs, turning point, or whatever the term is. He started having a really weird thought—quite an obsessive madness, perhaps—that when bad thing happened to him, and even when he looked so depressed; deep down inside him, there is always a roaring joy.

It is like in a hospital, as long as there are ups and downs, you are surely alive; but when it is a straight line, you are dead.

Nothing

Nothing big happened in my life, lately. Here I am, in my house, reading, watching movies, doing some translations, and going outside sometimes.

This house has been a little bit quieter since my mother, and my sisters left. Well, because of this and that, half of the people in my family move to Jakarta. It is not due to a divorce, though.

Here I am, with my father and my little brother, who will soon leave this house too.

 By the end of this month—or the beginning of next month—I will start living by myself. That is what I have always wanted; to be alone.

I could have moved with them too, actually. I, however, said to them that I still have many things to do concerning my study—which actually is already over. In fact, I do not have anything to do in this city, but I just do not want to leave this city.

***

Like I said before, this is what I want, to be alone and tranquil. I want it since what I usually heard in this house was nothing but arguments. Those arguments, however, are what I am longing for, now.

***

I feel tranquil and still… very still so that I can hear nothing but the tick of the clock, my heartbeats, and my own thoughts.

I am tranquil with nothing to worry about. I have finished my final project paper, I have enough money to stay alive, and I am no longer curious of how it is to be loved and how it is to be hurt. I have had enough of it.

I do not really want to continue my study since I can learn what I want to learn. I have all the sources and empty mind that is ready to retain anything. Besides, I have been offered to work at some places.

The questions are:

1. What do I want to do?

2. Where do I want to go?

***

Several months ago, an idea has just struck me in the head. It says that I should go find a job with high salary in other islands or even countries for 3 years, and then get back here (to Indonesia) to buy a house in the middle of nowhere, in a place where signal cannot even reach me. It says that I will buy a farm so that I can provide myself what I need.

Well…

I know that soon, my path will head to some branches. It is up to me to decide which path should I pass.

The path that I cannot take back…