it feels like a puddle collecting
my confusion constant
to immerse yourself in a book or a movie, to escape
we try to hide in fiction, to escape
to learn and not allow ourselves to be vulnerable
any opportunity we can get to use our knowledge to keep ourselves safe
to make ourselves stronger, (and in doing so) colder
that seems to be the goal
to protect, and to build
to build yourself up and something to stand upon
I am tired of feeling alone
I am always overstaying my welcome somewhere or with someone
I need to be patient
and to understand, to accept that I am on my own
every day is a battle
You don't need anyone and no one needs you
To stand upon my own two feet and to bare the weight
Its all muddled
its all extra
it is a waiting game because I do have a plan
To stay on track with this plan and to not let the extras weigh me down any longer
To hold myself back
My entire life I have ripped myself apart trying to hold others together
And for what?
Most days I don’t feel their absence.
Maybe I don’t care, maybe I don’t have enough reason to care, maybe I’m a bad person, maybe they don’t mean enough to me, I don’t know.
Most people in my life will come and go,
As the others before them have come and gone.
But it’s not sad,
Fucked up part of it all is that I don’t really mind not having “family” because I don’t really think about it. I have good friends. But even friends who feel like family will never be family. They will have their family trips, their holidays, their squabbles, their history –shit I will never know about or need to know about. Even as much as they want to be my family, even as much as I have wanted them to be my family, they. will. never. be. And I am finally mature enough to admit that. And to see that that is okay. Okay, and empowering. To know that I can go on without anyone. That I can fucking survive without anyone.
I am accustom to loss
It has made me colder
But that’s not bad,
I was sitting on a ledge in a pool. This ledge, that I used as a seat, was meant to be used to climb in and out of the deep end. This pool was at our neighbor Terry's house. Her house was much nicer than ours. It was summer. I was young, and though I did not know how to swim I often waded in her pool with a life jacket. There was nothing special about this day. It was still hot and it was still summer. I was taking a break and used this ledge to rest. As I sat, half submerged, my aunt read a magazine in a lawn chair a few yards away. She was wearing flip flops and sunglasses. My life jacket was behind me, half off the ledge of the pool; its shadow darkened the water beneath it. I had taken it off for comfort as I rested. Being the careless child I was I pushed off the ledge, ready to swim again, without it. I began to drown. I actually have a distinct memory of thrashing in the water. I remember thinking the water looked white as it splashed over me; I hadn't learned the word transparent yet. I panicked, but I don't remember being scared to die. I was so young. Death was abstract. My aunt jumped in after me. She saved my life. Her flip flops floated atop the water. Her sunglasses sank to the bottom.
The few scraps of family I had left
Was packing up and leaving
Leaving like the rest
Sometimes I cant help but feel like someone's forgotten carry-on at the airport.
In this scenario, I like to pretend that someone had the intention of bringing me along but simply left me behind, at the seat where they waited, because I was too small.
Whoever it was forgot me because I was too insignificant to be remembered.
Being forgotten is better than being left behind.
The only flaw in my illusion is that I'm actually starting to feel really alone here and I feel as though the walls around me are closing in. Collapsing inward upon me.
Piece by piece they become reduced to rubble.
As we fall, as we hit the floor together, dust begins to collect.
The air is now thick, stifling. It's hard to breathe. More dust rises.
The dust that continues to rise is being swept up violently by the storm raging inside of my head. There is a war there.
There is a war inside of my mind and that is where I live.
I am on a boat; a boat I built for myself.
There was no manual. There are many holes.
Water has begun to collect inside, I want to save myself, but I am lucid and it seems this death is inescapable.
Water collects, faster now... I am lucid--
I know there will be no savior. No messiah. No second coming.
I want to save myself.
But I am lucid and I know I don't have the means, the skills, or will to do that.
And so, in a few minutes I will drown.
In a few minutes I will drown and die-- the modest death of forgotten luggage.
4. We suck at responding to texts because sometimes we don’t want to talk – to anyone.
It’s not that we hate people or that we’re annoyed. Sometimes we’ve just been around people so much that we’re exhausted from talking and texting and Skyping and we just don’t want to talk. We’re totally open to hanging out in person, just don’t expect us to talk too much when we’re in one of these moods.
6. Despite needing our alone time, we do get lonely.
It’s difficult to balance between alone time and not feeling lonely. Often we’ll want to go out because we feel alone, but our apartment is so comfortable that we won’t want to leave.
7. It’s hard to get us out, but we’ll have a great time when we go out.
Sometimes we’ll require some coercing to get us out of the house. Again, it’s not that we don’t want to go out, we just start thinking, “What if it’s not fun? I could totally be reading my book. What if the tickets are sold out? What if they don’t actually want me to go and they’re just inviting me to be nice? We begin to draw into our own heads and make up things that could go wrong and use them as excuses to not go out.
10. We live in our heads even if it seems like we put ourselves out there.
Even when we’re being outgoing, our thoughts are still running and analyzing the situation.
11. Because we can be outgoing and calculated at the same time, sometimes we end up being leaders. But that does not mean we want praise, nor do we want to talk about how great we are.
People seem to think that we’re fit to be leaders. We can stand up and talk in front of crowds when we need to. We can make decisions when we need to. But we often analyze ourselves and don’t think highly of our skill sets. Sometimes we don’t believe we’re good enough to lead. We always think we can be better so praise often makes us cringe.
13. People think we’re flirtatious. We’re not.
We understand that interacting with people is a necessary part of life. So we make an effort to do it intentionally, and genuinely want people to know that they have our undivided interest and attention.
15. We’re at your happiest in places like coffee shops and cafés: surrounded by people, but still closed off and keeping to yourself.
We just like being around people, even if they’re strangers. It’s the compromise of being around people but not having to talk to them.
18. We don’t actually have a staple “group” of friends.
We often pick and choose one or two individuals from different social groups that make up our closest friends. But we make this handful of best friends our life and we’d do anything for them.
19. If we like you, we really like you. We’re extremely picky about who we spend our time and energy on. If we’ve hung out multiple times, take it as a compliment.
Seriously. If it’s such a struggle to talk to people and if we get so exhausting going out, it’s a big deal if we’re willing to spend our time and energy with you. It isn’t to say that we’re full of ourselves. We just wouldn’t want to spend that energy with people whose company we don’t enjoy.
read these from http://www.lifehack.org/297304/19-real-life-examples-extroverted-introvert-you-dont-get-confused and i felt these all applied to me
pain is memory
sometimes i wish i didn't have to remember
i wonder if i could erase it all if i would
whenever i look back on the past i can never focus on the good
i just focus on all the shit I've done wrong
i focus on my mistakes
and i go over and over in my head what I could have done differently
how i could have avoided a lot of the pain i caused on myself and on others
i want to cry because i know as much as i go back and forth with hypotheticals
if i didnt do this
if i didnt do that
it won't change anything
it can't -- thats life
u fuck up
and u cant change the past
So.. I need to accept that.
I did what I did and the only productive thing I can do now is learn from mistakes. Try not repeat the same ones I have made in the past. Learn and grow.
I like staying up late. There's always a small window in which you are somewhat forced to reflect on all the shit going on in your life and sometimes even the world around you. It makes you question things you don't often question -- Meaning. The meaning behind what others say or do...the meaning behind what you say or do. It's often heartbreaking and dramatic. It's often real emotion. It's often difficult to stay positive. But it's raw and it's real.
It makes you think. It makes you feel. It makes you appreciate the good moments, but it hurts.
It hurts because it is almost as if we are thawing our brains out. We are thawing out the numbness that the day has fostered for us.
During the day we are busy. Go to work, go to school, read, write, shop, fuck, eat, shower, scroll through active feeds, scroll through life... scroll..... We are often distracted. We are often numb.
We don't like getting real in any capacity because being numb is addictive. Becoming numb is the goal of so many alcoholics and users. This is similar but a different--encouraged-- mental numbness.
Getting real sparks emotion. Emotions spark action. Actions spark change. Change endangers those in positions of power. They want us to stay fucking numb.
Numb feels good. Doesn't take any effort. It's addictive. It's real. And we are all fucking numb.
These past few days when I lay down to sleep at night I am flooded. And it usually starts with a single thought.
“You did not do enough today”
Close behind follows an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. This is the anxiety. Soon your chest will begin to feel heavy. Pressure, what was once figurative, now literal. A feeling - a weight has been placed upon your chest. You fight to fall asleep. You fight.
"And you will not do enough tomorrow. You are weak. You will end up just like your fuck up parents. You are lazy. Incompetent. You won't even get out of bed tomorrow. You will amount to nothing. You are useless. You are useless, but mostly you are just fucking weak."
Now you are truly worried you will not do anything the next day….because you simply will not be able to wake up. You will be so sleep deprived that your alarms will not be enough. You start to think… "Sleep." "Sleep." "Please, FUCK. Can I just fall asleep?"
But there are just one too many thoughts. Unresolved issues. Worries.
I have fucking weights dangling from every inch of my body. I am covered by the many shadows of every obligation hanging above my head. I am suffocating. And I am disappointed with myself. I can't handle this and I have it so fucking easy in comparison to many. I hate that I complain. I have no fucking right to complain. And I truly wonder why am I being so fucking weak?
Every time I lay to sleep at night. It gets bad. These thoughts have become so fucking invasive. Here I am writing a blog about my inability to sleep at 5:31 AM.
Your only relief is found when you completely exhaust yourself. Personally, I found the easiest way to achieve this is to stay up writing until my eyes burn. Until my eyes burn so bad even the war inside of my mind begins to settle.
Drowning- Stranded in the middle of any ocean. In a place where no one would be able to hear or see my thrashing… my violent (but paradoxically weak) attempts to save whatever life I had left.
Water will fill my lungs. My body will begin to change colors and well, that would be the end of it… No sad theme song to garner pity. No dramatic bird’s eye view to give some bullshit otherworldly perspective. This insignificant, modest death… my grand fucking goodbye! How tragic. How real. How sad.
As much as I’d like to believe I am special or deserving of an exception – I know I am not.
I feel like I am drowning.
And if I die the next day the sun will rise just as it always does.
The sun will rise, and the rays will start to burn the skin on my lifeless body around the same time you will be pouring sugar into your morning coffee.