Prometheus` Fate

Everything made sense to me because after all, it fed the Victim Personality I had come to believe and identify with. It did not seem fair. Not at all. Not. One. Bit.

I always wanted to make the right decision, at least, what I thought was right. I never meant any harm by the choices I made because why would I choose wrong – on purpose?

Still, it just turned back on me. It’s like Prometheus’ Fate bringing fire to the people and being punished for it. You know, his conscious decision of trying to do The Right Thing, of trying to choose right. So Prometheus chose. But apparently he chose wrong. And so, he got punished. A Life Sentence of being chained to a rock and having to suffer. Day. By. Day.

The superficial soothing words Tomorrow is another day surely is a nice sentiment but holds no existential value when waiting for a Tomorrow seems to take forever and feels like it will never arrive. For some reason I was expecting Life to have beautiful, carefree and joyful things in store for me. The easy Path of Life, a Life filled with goodness. And with the expectation of positive things should always happen to me because Why not? I deserve it!

That somehow became the baseline, the version of Life to me. The privileged sense of A Good Life accompanied by the thought of I deserve the best and nothing but the best. Yet, with every challenge, with every choice I made, with every negative thing and moment of punishment, my world got shaken up. The expected Natural Flow of Life, the Heartbeat of Life had been interrupted. Disturbance in the natural flow of – Just. Choosing. Right.

Since I expected to always choose right and Life to treat me well and doing the things I thought would be good for me, the tough times became the main plot of my story. My personal history. Life, as I have come to know, could not continue the same way as it had. I wanted it to change, and I needed it to change too. Something needed to happen because I could not see myself in a future where there’d only be Punishment in store for me. The dissatisfaction with Life, with my life grew stronger.

But why would this even be? If I was sentenced to suffer like Prometheus and if I would have to experience recurring pain over and over again, how come this longing for change would even show itself? I had come to learn that this was just the way my life would unfold for me. Wrong choices and punishment as a result. So, how come this overwhelming sensation of How could it go on for so long?, How come it won’t come to an end? echoed louder and louder inside of me.

My life was running in a loop. A loop that just happened to have me in it. Round and round there I went. Beginning and end, no difference, same place. But finally something cracked and let light shine on the loophole. Small and seemingly insignificant at first but just like the flower of the sun, I turned my body towards it.

Was I complicit? Did I keep the cycle, the motions of recurring and inflicting pain on myself, alive? And if so: How? But as I would find out the question never simply is How? but rather Why?