It’s honestly sick. It’s embarrassing to admit but there have been times I have thought or a much better way to say it, day dreamed, about a way of rescuing somebody from a terrible situation. As in picturing myself rescuing someone from a burning building or a car wreck for the recognition that it would bring.
I told you it was embarrassing.
I wanted to be remembered in the history books, my name never to be forgotten leaving a lasting impact that changes the world. I believe its good to have big dreams to change the world but motives matter. I didn’t want to change the world to make other peoples lives better. I wanted to change the world to make my life better.
That was a tough phrase to admit.
I masked it as though I wanted to help others and to an extent I did want to help others. I enjoy helping others but my main focus was on myself, how I looked helping others, how much did it benefit me to help others, how people thought of me because I was helping others.
In the end it was more about me, my pride, than sacrificing for the betterment of those that I was claiming to help. I told you it’s sick. Pride is sneaky and messed up. At least mine has been throughout my life.