I suffer from an overdose of idealism. It's hard. I can't help but feel that my idealism is my character flaw. It kills every deal. It's my stumbling block. It's caused me so much heartache and bitterness, and a lonely self-perception, that I utilise fantasy as a form of escapism, and to interrupt painful thoughts, or unhappy reality. It's really no wonder idealism and depression go hand in hand. (Scratch off idealism, and underneath is a person who loathes oneself, and the next moment loves oneself.)
It's exhausting. It's the enemy of the good. Which is why I believe idealists and perfectionists have a hard time receiving love. They aren't good enough to receive love. Or, the love they are receiving isn't good enough for them. Either way, idealism is a hard way to live out your humanity. Explains why I have reality avoidance issues right now, and only the imaginary ideal beckons me.
"I have met many people who were once idealists. When they lose their fantasies,
they often retreat into depression or attack whatever damaged their illusions." - Musa Kramny
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