Commitment

Something just crossed my mind.

I've always been a little afraid to get involved with anything that I have to tie myself to.

I could never chose what career path I wanted to head down.
I never joined clubs.
I don't have any plans to move out of my mother's house.
I never learnt to drive (before now).
I don't buy anything too expensive - because I can't guarantee that I'll like it in a few months time.

The only reason I can think of that links all of the above is the commitment. The commitment needed to push ones self to a goal. To... succeed in that goal.

I suppose my problem has always been that my fear of failure has always held me back from succeeding. Because if you don't try, you can't fail.

You read so many quotes now on all these different websites that tell you that you can do and be what ever you want to be. My parents have always said I could do and be whatever I wanted to be. And, all excuses of lacking confidence and blah blah blah, aside, the only thing that did stop me, what my own lack of commitment.

It's so disappointing to get to that stage of realisation and realise that any unhappiness you have in your life is... well changeable only by you. To realise that while there still might be time to take the left road, it isn't as easy to change course as it is to chose one.

In my case, certainly, I'd never dream of blaming anyone or anything but myself. Truth be told, I took the easy way out. I drifted into a job by accident, even though it had never been in the cards, because it was the easy option, because it meant that I could do things during the work day I'd never get away with had I a normal job. And I do quite like my job, I love the freedom and the people I work with make me laugh. But there's still a nagging feeling that... I could have been more. I could have been different.

I know I know, there's still time. But I don't want to change. Not really. I mean, I wish I could grow a pair sometimes and just get things done. To join a club, maybe, (not really) or make plans. Or not make plans. Anything that would make me proud of myself. To think, yeah I did that.

I know I went to New Zealand, but I'm so disappointed in myself for not taking advantage of the time I spent there. Frankly, I'm ashamed to admit. I wasted it. So I want to make up for it.

I'm going to Berlin at the end of November, and I swear to God, if I come home, feeling like I wasted it, like I didn't do or see enough... I don't know what I'll do. If worst come to worst, I'm sure I'll be found wandering the empty streets of Berlin in winter, freezing my English skin off, trying to find my way to the Berlin Wall and ending up some where on the outskirts of the city, talking to myself.

Similarly, I had a driving lesson this evening. "Take your theory." He says. I don't want to. Because I don't want to be committed. Means I'm doing it then doesn't it? No backing out. Now or never. And shit me. I left school so I wouldn't have to take anymore bloody exams.

I didn't realise this might become such a problem.