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You know, I’ve met a lot of people, talked to a lot of people, even made a fair amount of friends. But it seems that, wherever I go, I still don’t quite belong. Even in my group of best friends I still feel left out, if its partially because I’m the only girl, its understandable, but it doesn’t make me have any more sense of belonging. Its rather strange, I try and be a nice enough person, and by accounts of other people, I suppose I succeed. But nothing I do make me feel like I’m at home, at rest. I don’t trust many people at all with anything even somewhat deep, and those I do still don’t know my deepest secrets, even though I don’t know them either. I don’t know if this means that the lack of a sense of belonging is a result of that, or a cause. Sometimes I feel so alone, and I’ve grown so used to it, its hard to let even my adored boyfriend through. I appear to wear my heart on my sleeve, but in truth, no one really knows what goes on with me. No one really understands. I wish someone would, because then they’d know a heck of a lot more than I do. Its just that absolutely no one understands my decision making process, and nor do I. I make decisions on what most would call a whim, but really I know there’s something a little deeper than that to it. I’ve tried online communities, but even in the Riddle Room on gaia, where I feel most comfortable, I wasn’t noticed for two months until I said my avi brought cookies. I don’t know, it feels like I get people, but people don’t get me. Maybe I just don’t hang around the right people. Maybe its just because I hide my true self from everyone. I don’t know, its as confusing as it is annoying. I wish I knew who I was, I know who I’m trying to be, what I’m trying to achieve, but what does that matter if I don’t know how to get there. I’ve been raised Christian, and tried to follow it most of my life, even giving it up for a period and coming back, but there’s nothing there. There’s nothing in my heart that can reach out and have that relationship that I see in so many other Christians. I also can’t bring myself to believe that God and Jesus don’t exist. My mind, even supplemented by science, just can’t bring itself to believe that there isn’t a god. Its natural for me to know about Him, but I just can’t follow him. It’s like its my business to help people on a journey, but never reach the destination myself. I don’t understand, and I don’t like it. I don’t like feeling lost and confused and hopeless and useless. What is my purpose in the world? I don’t have any great talent. I am above average in almost everything, but I can’t seem to excel beyond above average in anything. I’m sure if I tried at all, and were in better physical shape I would do fine in Gym, despite what I say of having no hand-eye coordination. I’m a good girl, I do my chores almost all the time without complaining, I don’t pick fights, I don’t get in trouble anywhere, I get decent grades, I understand and accept my parents rules, and I have no wish to rebel. Yet I wonder if this is going to get me anywhere in life. Every teenager in America seems to say ‘Yay! I get to move out when I’m 18!’ but I’m not. I’m worried, I’m scared about having to fend for myself. I don’t know what to do, I get flustered at makeup counters for crying out loud! What am I going to do when I have far more important decisions to make? I’ve always relied on my gut to get me through life, and the only real times I’ve had issues in life is when I wasn’t listening to it, but how far can gut feeling and a kind and slightly eccentric personality get me? I have no ambition, yes, I’d like to get a novel published before I’m 17, but that’s about it. There probably won’t be anything significant about the novel other than my age when I wrote it. I just want to make people happy, but at the same time I have a selfish streak I can’t ignore. I won’t pretend that I’m close to being a truly good person, because I’m not. I’ve stolen food from my parents, lied to a variety of people for various reasons, withheld money I owed people for myself, and I’ve had my fair share of just plain being rude too. I have a much tighter line for myself than others, or so books, movies, and people tell me. I won’t steal money from my parents, and I won’t sneak out. I won’t do several things I just consider immodest, but that doesn’t mean my thoughts are pure either. One of the most common things for me to lie about is my feelings, I’d like to say I withhold them because I don’t want to burden people, but that would only be a half truth, the real reason is that I just don’t understand them. I get sad for unknown causes, but not very sad or depressed enough for me to believe I’m ill in any way. I’ve never had suicidal thoughts, or murderous ones, and I can’t hold a grudge for long, but I have no problem bringing up insults weeks, days even years later depending on the severity. I brush off compliments, but feel insulted if I don’t get any. I feel like nothing I do is good enough. Everyone expects excellent things from me, so anything that falls short of perfect seems to be ignored. I get an ‘I’m proud of you’ after a whole trimester of grueling work, but when I tell them I couldn’t handle and shouldn’t have taken the extra math class, which I knew in my gut I get laughed at and told that I should just have worked harder. I get pushed to do things that I don’t enjoy in high school, when I really just want to take classes that I enjoy. I get tormented for not choosing the English class I was perfectly qualified and able to take in favor of one I wanted to, I just feel so invisible sometimes. Like no one really cares about what happens to me if it makes me happy. ‘Oh you can do that as a side-job’ I get that all the time when I mention any job that doesn’t necessarily make a lot of money or seems eccentric. The truth is; there is nothing I want to do other than possibly writing. It seems that it’s just expected that I’ll do great things when all I want to do is a simple job that makes me happy and doesn’t make me rich. I don’t want to be rich. I want to be middle class, not because I want to fit in, but because I want to know that everything I have is honest, true, and earned. Friendships, for instance. A vacation, and my money, and I don’t want to be corrupted by money and power and I’m not sure that I wouldn’t be if I had it. Oh, yes, I talk grand about wanting to give my money to charity, but what’s my excuse for squandering my money now when I’m not even trying to support myself? I don’t want to know what that kind of influence would do to me, and I never intend to find out. No one seems to understand that, everyone nods their head and smiles while I say it but they seem to radiate the feeling that they think this is just a phase and it’ll pass. It’s not! I don’t know why I keep writing, but it just doesn’t feel right to stop. I was crying for a while during the time that I wrote this, because these are feelings that I don’t let ANYONE know. Because as I said, no one understands, so I keep them inside and they weren’t necessarily bottled up to explosion, just put on the backburner. In my life I have claimed to have had a true friend, and maybe I did, but no more. Even though we’ve met again after so long, its just been as I said, so long, she doesn’t know enough of what’s going on in my life to say or do anything, and I don’t know how much she’s changed over the years. Gods, life can be confusing. I think I’ll try and wrap this up, if I can get my hands to stop typing words on the keyboard that then appear on the screen which may appear on paper someday far in the future, but for now, nothing.
G’night, me.
 Gem of Facets · Wed Jul 08, 2009 @ 03:43am · 2 Comments |
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