Expectations. While In transit home, it got me thinking. Expectations. Not the expectations on myself, but of others on me.
I've always been the type to live up to people's expectations. My family, relatives and friends. By my evaluation, career wise, I've done the best I can to live up to, yes, their expectations. Their expectations become the measure for my own expectations.
But is that all there is to life?
I'm happy where I am now and what I've come to achieve. But, well, lately I've been feeling down and bummed out. Couldn't figure it out until recently.
It's like smoke and mirrors. The facade I've kept up to make sure people find that I'm living a good life, a perfect life? - to live up to their expectations. Maybe it's just me, or the homesickness?, or perhaps...my insecurities. But well, I feel empty.
Quarter life crisis? Perhaps yes, perhaps no. But I am still in search of that something - as Westlife sings it - to make me feel complete.
perhaps, it's because I've been living for others that I've forgotten what it's like to live for myself. Void of the usual comforts I've gotten used to, well,I find myself, alone and not knowing where to go.
This is where I come out to admit that it seems I live for my work. My career. As it is a basis for "them" to gauge to some degree of tangibility my worth.
Perhaps I'm just over thinking it, or I'm just fretting, but well, I live in the now. And thus week I have plenty of work being on shift. So I'll think more about this next week.
And maybe by then I find something else to live for.
What is the measure of being on top? They say it gets oh so lonely at the top. Does this mean I've reached the pinnacle then? I sure hope not, there's more I expect of myself I project to them to expect of me.