Epic Fail

Let’s face it, I’m a total failure.

I belong to a family of prodigies. All of my close lineages on my father’s side (his siblings and my dad himself) are achievers and some can even be considered as over-achievers. They were all valedictorians when they were in elementary and high school and cum laudes when they were in college. Most of them were recipients of national awards in leadership, academics, etc. On my mom’s side, most are accomplished doctors and lawyers. My grandfather was the first chief of justice in the province and my aunt was a bar top notcher without having a review. And then I was born. Saying that I am an under-achiever is a massive understatement.

My life is futile. This morning I had my mock job interview for my Business Communication class and one of the questions was, “What is your greatest achievement in life?” and then it hit me just like a ballistic missile. Sure, I answered that question with ample refinement and poise and I actually landed on the top spot among our batch of interviewees but the actual answer is, “nothing”. There is absolutely nothing praiseworthy in my 19 years of existence. I am already at the peak of my teenage years and yet I haven’t done anything that can be considered as a milestone. Some people already know what they will be after college because they have decisive imaginings in their young lives. I have some classmates who are really so effing good in film editing and film production, some are so good in performing and acting while I am good at nothing. I mean, I know how to do stuff but not to the point that I really outshine in a particular aspect. I know how to do this and I also know how to do that. In other words, I am a jack of all trades but never a master of one and it pains me.

Why was I created, anyway? Sometimes I feel like I don’t really have a purpose in this world. How I wish my mom and dad just had safe sex so that I wasn’t conceived and brought out into this cruel world, full of anguish and drudgery. Look, I’ll be finishing my tertiary education after a year and still, I can’t envision myself working somewhere because I don’t have the so-called “calling”. I envy those people whom I can say were really born to act, to sing, to write, to teach while I lie awake in my bed every night and wonder what my purpose in life is. Is it to suffer? To inflict pain to my parents for being such a bad ass (according to my mom)? Or am I just a non-entity, created just for ornamental purposes? I don’t get it. I feel like I’m not needed. I mean, no one would really cry a river if I die. My family and my friends will not be affected at all if I will die. They will continue to live their typical, blissful lives even without me.

So why the fuck am I still living? I wake up every morning and I just go through life on a one-day-at-a-time basis. It’s terrible.  

I’m not envious of the people who accomplish so much in their lives, neither am I confused of what I would want to be. I am just looking for answers for so many questions- questions that should have been answered a long time ago with the help of the people surrounding me. But to no avail. I endure as a non-entity and you know what’s weird? I’m happy.

I’m happy because there’s something to laugh about every day. The mere fact of me-waking-up is a benediction. Whenever I see my dog’s tail wagging vigorously at his sight of me makes me smile. Every time I see street children pleading for alms, I feel blessed and all those little things like the sound of laughter from a child, a simple smile from an acquaintance and a modest tap at the back make me somehow want to linger on living despite the fact that my purpose of living is still an unknown variable x.

At the very minute I wake up, I say to myself, “This is the day!” but I end up going back to the same bed every night to sleep and say, “It’s okay, tomorrow could be the day”. A huge part of me is still yearning to be invigorated, my thirsty soul wants to be quenched and the queries in my heart are craving for answers.

Hope—that’s all I have and all I’m living for.