A quest for my Identity

I think I found what I was going through. An explanation warrants a little bit of history, or perhaps an analysis.

Some of you may know, till about year ago I was pretty much the happiest guy on earth. I was happy with what I was doing, what was happening, and most importantly, I was happy with the people around me and I was under the correct impression that the world is a perfect place as is.

But things changed. I began to "know" that I was happy and wanted to stay that way. I wanted to share my happiness with people. I wanted to show people what it mans to be happy! But soon enough, I also became conscious of myself and began to see unhappiness around me and my desire to correct it began to creep in.

Around the same time, my involvement with the volunteering activities got very regular. I used to be there for all the activities promptly and I even got chances to lead some of them. I pretty much earned the unofficial title of "Mr. Reliable". Even at my work place, I was kind of the "to-go" guy for the area I worked on. And of course, I was proud of myself and patted myself on the back for a step ahead in life.

All these developments led me to believe that I had the ability to become a leader because I was good at what I was doing and all I need to learn is how to motivate people. Easier said than done huh! So I began taking up initiatives and offered myself wherever needed. I knew that a good leader has to set good examples. "Because if a leader does not, then who would like to follow him? BE, DO and TELL. Not the other way." But then what I couldn't see till recently, was this innocent thought which had always been hiding in my mind: "Well, you want to be a good leader. So you need to be an idealistic person. If you go wrong, then you cannot be effective. So you always need to be correct!"

What a spoiler it was! Unconsciously, I didn't let myself be wrong. I wouldn't forgive myself if I failed to do something "correctly", forget me blaming others if they didn't do their job "correctly" - that always happened. And I started to make conscious efforts to portray myself as an ideal person. When I look back now, I can see myself suppressing the actions I would naturally do when I am amongst my friends and stay a quiet person - deep in my own thoughts, trying to analyse what the correct thing to do was for that time. This made me so conscious of myself, and I started wondering what people think of me. And the thought would come: "Am I living for others, or am I living for myself?" I began to ask myself who I really am because I lost the sense of my identity - I was obsessed about what people thought about me.

In my visit to India this time, I didn't speak even with my parents as I usually would, and not even with my brother. I was in my own shell quietly resisting any conversation that would let my true self slip away. My folks could see my resistance and made all attempts to set me free, but it was all in vain because I wouldn't speak up.

And then when I came back here to the US, it was the jet-lagged sleepless night that brought me back to my own self. I could not sleep and my thoughts raced and raced about why I was this way with my own folks. "YOUR OWN FOLKS you fool!" - forget about friends here!

I called my mom in the middle of the night and broke down.

I am yet to find out how much more there is for me to see of myself. And I am in the quest for my own true identity.