I am impatient by nature, and it hurts my existence greatly.

 

 

I realized some time ago that I am impatient.  It didn't occur to me all of a sudden; it was more of a brief moment of agreement with other individuals about my lack of patience.  I used to like to deny how impatient I am.  I used to blame other people for how things turned out in moments where I truthfully had lost my patience.  I used to believe that the consequences of my impatience were merely acts of incompetence by other people.  They're not, at least not all of them.

 

But being impatient has really affected me and impacted my life in a negative way.  For example, I've often overlooked the effort others have made to alleviate certain situations.  I've also often diminished those efforts, thinking that more could always be done.  The thing is, I am a person who often tries things out every which way is possible.  Whatever is within my reach to do so that I can make something better, I do.  It's often said that one cannot expect those around to be or act the same way one does, and that in expecting so, one acquires nothing more than great disappointment.  This is one of the negative consequences of my impatience.

 

I often doubt the sincerity of those around me.  It's hard to place an honest face to an honest voice these days.  The very jaded cynic in me often believes it's only a matter of time before a friendly face will cease being so friendly.  I believe that, often, it is possible that I give off an aura that tells people in some way, shape or form, that I doubt them.  That is usually because I am terrible at faking things I do not feel, or believe in.  I have always been, by nature also, a terrible liar-- one who felt extremely ill with guilty when calling out from work after needing a day off due to exhaustion.  I found myself ashamed to say I was exhausted, and thought I'd find it easier to say I was ill.  Truth is, that entire day was so absolutely lackluster and impossible to enjoy, that I felt literally sick to my stomach.  All in all, these traits seem to be connected to my impatience, and as an adult, I am unsure as to whether or not patience is something I can grow within me, or plant, like a seed, or acquire like a newly purchased piece of jewelry.  Is it something I can learn, like I learned a foreign language before, or is it something I'll find I have one day, like the old portraits of my Grandfather?

 

So many questions, and so many doubts.  So many problems that have gone un-dealt with.  So many words that have gone un-spoken. 

 

When something you often do results in you hurting yourself, you've got to stop doing it.