A quarter of a life

I’ve just realized that I’ve lived a quarter of my life (if we are to estimate a general lifespan of almost 100 years for my generation and if we do not manage to ruin Mother Earth first, of course).

Funny how 2015, my 25th year on this planet, seemed the spring of my creative writing.

Words just poured out from almost January 1. Not just creatively, but academically, I practically excelled! Truly, I surprised myself! (Now the megalomaniac and the self-deprecator within me are having a major argument, of course). But I did do good and for once, I actually felt rather satisfied and proud of my work. And regarding the creative writing in my sparetime; I wrote better than I ever had before. At the end of the year, I even managed to begin a fanfic story, just for kicks, but it quickly developed and expanded and I’m still hovering around it, trying to unravel the possible outcomes of the story’s progression. I doubt I’ll finish it anytime soon (I am an INTP, after all), but it is rather nostalgic to write just for fun again.

And then I started this blog in the new year, because, once again, I couldn’t keep my mouth or mind shut. I had to get it out, to write!

“If I do not write to empty my mind, I go mad”, Lord Byron once said. And I could not put it simpler than good, old Georgie boy!

It also came in the wake of my newfound realization about dealing with life; with a more raw honesty, so to speak – or simply realizing that I’ve more or less always dealt with life this way and now I’m choosing to embrace it, since I’ve got nothing else to lose. I guess I’m finally embracing and accepting myself as the adult I’ve turned out to be or I’ve turned into somewhat of a cynic … but that may also be a part of myself. The lines are blurry, indeed.

With this realization came all the thoughts that I’ve collected inside my head during this quarter of a life pouring out as well. I’ve kept a sort of secret journal for a long time for this purpose, but it was more like one, long, unedited paragraph of automatic writing where I went to vent. It was entirely raw, personal and emotional – much of it written in the heat of the moment while other parts contained observations I’ve long been pondering about. It was as childish as it was insightful.

Given my late discovery of MBTI I’ve been able to go back and re-read some of these rants with much more clarity; sharing light on so many INTP-related experiences happening throughout my life. It has given me a new perspective that, for the first time, is both recognized and legitimized within the field of psychology and more importantly: My place in the world. That I am a part of the puzzle as well, no matter how weird-looking I appear. Something I actually never thought possible.

And so, this year, in the wake of my newfound honesty, I decided to let go of my fears of confessing these thoughts by sharing some of them with you and the World Wide Web, knowing other (female) INTPs are out there, perhaps feeling as alone and freakish as I once did, not knowing their personality or that it is shared by others and entirely legitimate and ‘non-freakish’. I hope you find this and that some of it resonate with your inner beings; that you’ll find some sort of peace and sense of belonging. As long as there is breath in my body I’ll keep writing, so I’ll be here for you.

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