I Feel Like I Don't Belong

Well, by rights I should be dead. If nature were left to its own devices, my appendix would have burst before I finished university. Up to that point I had a purpose until I got my A-levels. Even then my will was dying: I couldn't do the subjects I wanted to do, and my dreams of a healthy world were slipping away as I lost Geography and English, and with those the ability to a) know what evils we humans are so besotted with and b) communicate them in a moving way to the populous.

And so life descended. I put little effort into Physics at university, and in Christmas time of my final year had my appendix out.

Since then my life has been a mish mash.

I tried teaching, and failed the last hurdle.
I tried designing, but the world put me with a micro-controlling OCD boss and under the Yorkshire mentality of not investing in your people ba<x>sed on performance but on seniority.
I tried volunteering in South Africa, but really caused as much chaos as I cured - and the paperwork was a nightmare.
I tried to move with my Fiancé further South in South Africa, but the paperwork didn't work out at all.
Now I've attended an interview at McDonald's, because I don't fit into engineering, physics, IT or counselling backgrounds so am basically unhirable.

I don't fit. I should have died.

I'm working on it, and my fiancé even is working on accepting me as I am, as I work on accepting her as she is. We try not to pull each other up on things so much, and rather support each other and jovially encourage.

It's hard.

That I should be dead is the single most revealing part of my life so far. It's like officials in the embassy are not really autonomous, following procedures. It's like they already know I'm a misfit and I'm coming, and they reject me before I've even showed up - simply because actually I'm equally useless here in the UK as in South Africa. Except in South Africa I can do menial work for an NGO for free, thereby taking a paid (albeit a miniscule stipend but to someone with nothing it's a whole life) job away from a native person.

I feel a little bit sad realising that part of my identity. A little. I also feel a little emboldened, knowing that I am here by science and the goodwill of British taxpayers. I see it is kind of a disability. My head is always cloudier than it ought to be, I'm rarely sharp. My eyes always ache, and my stomach is almost always feeling discomfort of some sort. Perhaps that is death eating away at me while I'm still here. A strange philosophy.

I've had cycle accidents and near misses too. Plenty. Elephant took a disliking to the car; overtaking and those oncoming headlights are closer than you thought; suchlike.

What am I going to do about it? Still being here... Well I am beginning to believe this:

Imagine a world in which your dreams have already come true. Then compare that world with this one. The difference between the two is exactly equal to your worth, your value. It is up to you to plan the route, to execute that plan, and to achieve it. But your value remains the same whether you achieve it or not. The value of a human being is in their potential, not in what you see today but in what they are moving towards. Where their steps are leading them. Where their every choice every day every moment is taking them.

Long live humanity.