Joined
·
781 Posts
Perhaps others who have typed as INFJs will understand. The pronoun 'you' can literally describe 'you', but it also describes 'me' and 'he' or 'she' as well.
You work hard everyday from morning to the end of the afternoon. You are cooperative, compromising, self-motivating and, if necessary, a leader for the 'greater good' of this team you're a part of. Yes, you admit you have an agenda, an unhealthy motive(s) and sometimes a 'bad' or 'off' day, but you're able to recognize it then and there and counteract with truer sense of service. But for the most part your co-workers are in love with petty power-struggles ('I want to win and I will make you lose') and hyper-masculinity (that is if they're male). Your supervisor is afraid of you because you're college educated and want more from life and work, and that cold stare and the restraint from chit-chat directed at you says enough as it is. Your co-workers can't seem to leave his or her problems away from work, and you being who you are are able to 'gauge into the other person's soul' and understand and be terrified by what lurks within. Afraid that you, too, will become like them through years to come.
So you come home to your family or you go and see your friends. You encourage them with compliments and strengthen them with words. You want to set yourself as a model to have others reach toward. You direct them, albeit sometimes too strongly, of what they need to do to grow and reach the vision they themselves have for themselves. They come to you with their problems and you genuinely want to help them even though you may make a mistake or if worse comes to worse fail. Again, you've grown over the years, and you understand the 'darker' side of your nature, and since you do you can, again, counteract with this sense of care and service for others.
But then you wonder to yourself why others won't reciprocate. You look at your friends and, oddly, in strange moments you feel a sense of disgust from them. Perhaps you 'hate' them and can't stand them after all. Perhaps that's how they actually feel. And you're human too, but it feels like there is no one there for you. So you settle for less and simply be there to be there. And you settle for the conversation to be 'not there' either...with all the focus on texting and phonecalls, and, you wonder secretly, whether they're busy with their lives or biding their time. You conclude the later because of what you hear in eavesdrop. Co-dependence runs amuck, and others live lives on the gossip and drama but with nothing more than that while scorning those same concepts that seem to rule their lives. This would be fine, yes, but you have heard again and again words and phrases like 'I'm so alone", "my life has no meaning", and "I feel so hopeless". You've concluded that either we're all self-deluded or that we actually and secretly want hope and love and affection. But you don't see a shred of evidence in your own life. The dynamics of everyone's relationship(s) is so clear as day for you. The 'why' is answered even before you ask it. The look on a sad, lonely persons face, hurt and discouraged by the pettiness of others because of a speech-impediment hurts you to the core. The tears of an adolescent whose simple mistake has cost them the rest of their life brings tears to your eyes. The self-disclosure from your friend about the pain they deal with everyday forces you to encourage them to not be afraid to trust because you see a vulnerability slowly crushed by the world around them. Desperate to escape the fact that you may be a sensitive person, you emerge yourself in the worst of the worst environments to 'toughen' up. Your sensitivity and care has become a curse to you, and you want nothing more of it. But by then it's too late.
The only truest satisfaction is your vision, your dream, in your mind of what one day will happen. You work everyday on that hope. And you feel that without that hope there is no particular reason you'd want to be here anyway. It is a mistake. And it's foolish.
You work hard everyday from morning to the end of the afternoon. You are cooperative, compromising, self-motivating and, if necessary, a leader for the 'greater good' of this team you're a part of. Yes, you admit you have an agenda, an unhealthy motive(s) and sometimes a 'bad' or 'off' day, but you're able to recognize it then and there and counteract with truer sense of service. But for the most part your co-workers are in love with petty power-struggles ('I want to win and I will make you lose') and hyper-masculinity (that is if they're male). Your supervisor is afraid of you because you're college educated and want more from life and work, and that cold stare and the restraint from chit-chat directed at you says enough as it is. Your co-workers can't seem to leave his or her problems away from work, and you being who you are are able to 'gauge into the other person's soul' and understand and be terrified by what lurks within. Afraid that you, too, will become like them through years to come.
So you come home to your family or you go and see your friends. You encourage them with compliments and strengthen them with words. You want to set yourself as a model to have others reach toward. You direct them, albeit sometimes too strongly, of what they need to do to grow and reach the vision they themselves have for themselves. They come to you with their problems and you genuinely want to help them even though you may make a mistake or if worse comes to worse fail. Again, you've grown over the years, and you understand the 'darker' side of your nature, and since you do you can, again, counteract with this sense of care and service for others.
But then you wonder to yourself why others won't reciprocate. You look at your friends and, oddly, in strange moments you feel a sense of disgust from them. Perhaps you 'hate' them and can't stand them after all. Perhaps that's how they actually feel. And you're human too, but it feels like there is no one there for you. So you settle for less and simply be there to be there. And you settle for the conversation to be 'not there' either...with all the focus on texting and phonecalls, and, you wonder secretly, whether they're busy with their lives or biding their time. You conclude the later because of what you hear in eavesdrop. Co-dependence runs amuck, and others live lives on the gossip and drama but with nothing more than that while scorning those same concepts that seem to rule their lives. This would be fine, yes, but you have heard again and again words and phrases like 'I'm so alone", "my life has no meaning", and "I feel so hopeless". You've concluded that either we're all self-deluded or that we actually and secretly want hope and love and affection. But you don't see a shred of evidence in your own life. The dynamics of everyone's relationship(s) is so clear as day for you. The 'why' is answered even before you ask it. The look on a sad, lonely persons face, hurt and discouraged by the pettiness of others because of a speech-impediment hurts you to the core. The tears of an adolescent whose simple mistake has cost them the rest of their life brings tears to your eyes. The self-disclosure from your friend about the pain they deal with everyday forces you to encourage them to not be afraid to trust because you see a vulnerability slowly crushed by the world around them. Desperate to escape the fact that you may be a sensitive person, you emerge yourself in the worst of the worst environments to 'toughen' up. Your sensitivity and care has become a curse to you, and you want nothing more of it. But by then it's too late.
The only truest satisfaction is your vision, your dream, in your mind of what one day will happen. You work everyday on that hope. And you feel that without that hope there is no particular reason you'd want to be here anyway. It is a mistake. And it's foolish.
