I’m Sorry.

I’m sorry I’m not back yet – back to being attentive, happy, myself. I know this is temporary, but it feels a lot less temporary with every passing day. I just want to be past it. I want to pull myself out of this.

But it’s a lot, you know?

We don’t all have best friends to stand by us. Some of us are alone in this. Some of us are taking it all on ourselves, then just when we think we can’t take anymore, twice as much is thrust upon us. It’s all we can do, to bear the weight.

So please, appreciate the people who you can turn to with anything. It’s okay if you can’t return the favor – you can’t be everything to everyone – but make sure you’re not taking them for granted.

Survival isn’t easy when you’re alone in the world.

And when you get the chance, love. Honest love can get you through anything, you just have to believe in it. Don’t fear commitment or getting hurt. Let’s face it, life is painful anyway and committing to the hope for something more is never a mistake. Don’t ever settle for someone who makes life harder, but don’t let fear keep you from being with someone who makes you happy.

Life is just too damn short.

I DON’T WANT TO BE THIS WAY, OKAY?!

I don’t want to feel like I have to keep walls up, to not be a burden on anyone. I don’t want to feel like I can’t let anyone in, because I believe they don’t genuinely want in. I don’t want to know that the majority of people are fake and really only want me around when it’s convenient for them.

I wish I was ignorant.

I wish I wasn’t so hurt.

I wish I didn’t have to be alone.

But the clock is tick-tick-ticking, my energy is fading, and I have to choose how to use what’s left. I want to be a positive force in the world, but I can’t figure out how.

I guess I should just be happy that no one will hurt when I’m gone.

…

And part of me doesn’t want to post this, because it’s pointless, because the few who read will judge or compare or find some other way to use these words for themselves, ignoring my pain. But fuck it… this isn’t for them. This is for me, and I’m not going to hold back my feelings, however fleeting, just because they make others uncomfortable. I’ve done that for far too fucking long. This feeling will pass. We’ll see who’s still around when it’s over.

Stuck

I’m not doing well.

I’ve lost faith that things will get better. I know what I want, I know that it would be positively life-changing, but I no longer believe in my ability to get it.

And it hurts.

And I feel alone.

I want to give up. I’m exhausted and I just want my fight to be over. It’s too much, it’s too much for one person.

And people say they’re there, but all they offer is pretty, meaningless words. Then I have to make sure I always paint a smile, always say the right things, because if I don’t, I’m the villain.

I’ve always wanted to be the hero, but I’m

just

too

weak.

So, give up, I tell myself. Stop fighting for more. You know there are things in life you just don’t get.

But I can’t.

I am knocked flat by the pillars that I built my life on, pushed by those who judge before they see. I am crushed under the weight, heart calling out for someone, as I silently weep. I cannot ask for help. I cannot risk another. I must bear this weight until I can gather the strength to lift it all myself.

But I’m not sure I can do it this time.

I’m not sure I’ll make it.

I’m just

Stuck.

I’m Not That Girl.

I feel like people want me to be someone I’m not.. but I’m not going to fake it for anyone. I spent too much of my life doing that, and I can’t do it anymore. I won’t. And you know what? I like the real me so much better!

So here’s the truth.

I make dirty jokes because I think they’re fun. I am not someone to sext with. I don’t want dick pics, even if I’m into you. I’m not a big fan of porn. I want the real thing or nothing at all. I do have a great sexual appetite.. for whoever I have feelings for. I don’t share and I do not want to be shared. I am perfectly pleased in monogamy.

I’m not competing with other women for anyone. As much as I may care for someone, he’s either going to want me or he’s not. If he’s torn between me and someone else, I hope he chooses the other person, because I want someone who only wants me.

I’m not the life of the party. I don’t want to be. I may have witty remarks. I may occasionally attract attention. I am okay with this, but I don’t want to be the star of the show. My role is that of the supporting character, always.

I’m not going to fake it. I’m not going to suck up or say “it’s okay” when it’s not. I’m not going to pretend I like something I don’t. I’m not going to be bubbly when I’m not feeling it. I’m not going to lie to make anyone feel better. I’m going to be honest, even if it hurts everyone involved. I’m going to show my heart, even when it’s angry or sad. I may be a “downer,” but I’m real.

I don’t play mind games for attention. I don’t cry for help. I’m not looking for anyone to save me or fix me. I do that myself. If asked, I will tell what I’m dealing with, but I expect nothing to come of it. I rely on no one but myself. I keep an open mind if there are suggestions, but it is my life, my responsibility, and I will not burden anyone else.

I will not be used. I will not be taken advantage of. I’ve lived that pathetic life and I will not do it again. I will go to great lengths for the right person, but I will not be a pushover. If I feel taken for granted, I’m likely to ghost the person. I have too much respect for myself to allow another to disrespect me.

I will not try to change anyone, and I will not be changed. I believe you should appreciate people for who they are. You can speak your mind, but hold no expectations, and only stick around if you can accept things as they are. A person should change only if they believe they should. So, I keep an open mind and listen if someone has a problem, but if I don’t see it as a problem, I am not changing a thing. And I’ll not ask that of anyone else.

I am not the best at anything. I’m not very good at video games. I enjoy watching more than playing, in most cases. I cannot sing or play an instrument. I’m not athletic. I’m not a good artist. I am not very attractive. My humor doesn’t appeal to many. I am okay with all of these things. I don’t need to be great in them. I am happy to admire these qualities in others instead of trying to prove myself in these areas.

I am not always going to feel like being social. I love people and am usually up for hanging out with the right ones, but most exhaust me. There could be a group of five of my favorite people, but when the sixth person is someone I don’t really click with, it takes everything I have to spend my time with them. I wasn’t always this way and I don’t particularly enjoy it, but it is what it is.

I am not a partier. Drinking can be nice, but bars and clubs do not appeal to me. Getting wasted or high is not my idea of fun. I take joy in life itself, not numbing myself to it. Experiences, silliness, creativity, heart… these are the things that get me excited. These are the memories I keep.

I cannot be superficial. I don’t care about money. I don’t care about fancy dinners, big houses, expensive clothes, or the latest tech. I don’t need much to be happy.

I will not ditch my friends for my relationship. Anyone I am with would have to start out as a good friend, and any friend of mine should understand how important they all are to me. Obviously priorities have to be kept in mind, and sometimes the relationship will come first, but not always. A friend having a breakdown overrides a movie date. My partner cannot be my whole world, and I do not want to be theirs. Other parts of life matter, too.

But the one thing that is most important for people to realize about me is..
I AM emotion. I feel mine and those of everyone around me. It is intense. I am intense. In the past, I have tried to mute it, dilute myself. I have tried to become less, so I wouldn’t be too much for others. To do that is to not be myself, and I end up sinking into a deep depression. So, know that I’m a lot. Know that I’m not exaggerating or overdramatizing. Know that I get enraged, ecstatic, sorrowful, tender, anxious, and excitable. I am always feeling. I am always thinking. It takes a lot to bring me down and very little to bring me up, but I do feel it all. It is all a form of passion, and I am overflowing with passion. It will not, cannot change.

So if you’re looking for someone gorgeous to show off your money, I’m not that girl.
If you’re looking for someone shallow, to just have fun with, I’m not that girl.
If you’re looking for someone to save, someone to use, someone to change, I’m not her.
If you’re looking for someone to tell you what you want to hear, that’s not me either.
Weird. Complicated. Sentimental. Thoughtful. Silly. Real.
That’s me.
I’m that girl.

–

I am so tired of whining and complaining. I’m so sick of being surrounded by negativity. It’s killing me. It’s turning me into something I don’t want to be. And it gets worse every day.

Maybe I’m not meant to be around people. I care so fucking much that it rips my heart out sometimes. I give all that I have, all that I am, and then I search for more to give. I love with such strength and loyalty that words cannot even hint at the magnitude. I am heart. Love is the foundation of all I do. It is what makes me who I truly am.

But no one wants it unless they aren’t expected to give anything back. They want it to be superficial, so they can gain benefits without it meaning anything. They don’t want me to be real.

So I say what I need, what I want, what I feel, and it falls on deaf ears. I sign it, but they turn away. I write it, but the paper is ignored, covered, in an attempt to forget it exists.

And I cannot be angry. These people have no obligation to me. They owe me nothing. They are not doing anything wrong by dismissing me, by waving me away.

It just hurts.

But that’s okay. Pain is a part of growing, and that’s something I never want to stop doing.

Moody Bitch or Just Too Open?

I feel everything intensely… or I feel nothing. There is no in-between for me.

I can be hard to keep up with. I can be a lot to handle.

It would be easy for someone to thrust a label upon me. Some say I’m Bipolar, some say I’m severely depressed, some say I’m manic, some say I’m crazy.

In all honesty, I’m just…

Tired.

I’m tired of faking, of hiding, or holding back. I’m tired of letting opportunities slip by because I was too afraid to admit the truth. I’m tired of the mind games and the bullshit. I want to be open. I want to be honest. I want to be

Real.

So, here’s the truth:

I am afraid.

I’ve reached a point in my life where this huge move could change everything for me. It could be a legitimate future, instead of the usual “for now” that I always settle for. For the first time, it feels like I may be getting what I need most.

But

As usual, everything is crashing down on me. The pressure has tripled. Time is ticking away and the tasks required seem absolutely impossible. I don’t know the steps I need to be taking. All I know is that I need to make this work somehow. If I don’t… if I don’t, it might just kill me. Not physically, but I don’t know if this soul can take that failure. I have fought through way too much for such a silly thing to take me down, but it could. It could, because my whole heart is in this.

So, I hope the rest of my life will forgive me if I don’t give it the attention it deserves. I have to take care of this before I can be any good for anything else.

And love, if you’re out there… if the right one for me actually exists… Just hold on a little longer. Let me become myself again, so I can be what you deserve. I promise you a life of frustration and immeasurable joy. I promise you days that feel pulled straight from a movie and days of mellow contentment. I promise you a life of silliness and surprises and chaos. I promise you struggles, but rewards that are more than worth them. Most of all, I promise you love… love like you can’t even imagine.

I got this. I cannot fail. I have too much to look forward to.

Drained

I started writing this post, but I became more exhausted just looking at it. Let’s see if I can keep it short.

This past month or so, my life has been overwhelmingly complicated. I powered through, I struggled to survive, I sank into darkness, and now I’m just…

Drained.

Not empty or numb. I feel. I just don’t have it in me to-

Well.. to do anything.

I can’t fake it, I can’t exclaim, I can’t cry or scream or cheer. I can’t relax, I can’t distract, I can’t research it all out. I can’t work or play or sleep.

I’m sorry. I have nothing of me left to offer right now.

When someone needs me, really needs me, I will be there. The energy will come. But as soon as all is well, it dissipates and I am just… here. Here, weary, waiting for the next battle to be called.

~ ♡ ~

At this point, she stops and stares down at her keyboard. The urge to curl up into a ball and just lie there is all too strong. She considers this, but it is not what she really wants. She wants a certain someone’s arms around her, holding her close. She wants her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. She wants to feel like it is all going to be okay, because he will be there. She hates that she wants this, for so many reasons. She had always been independent, but she wants so badly to have this someone fight by her side. She knows that it will not happen, however, and the yearning only makes her feel more alone. She surrenders to her bed.

Internet Mask

Here’s the thing…

You have no idea who I am. You see such a small part of me.

And I may try to tell you, but that’s not right either. Even if you hear me, even if you listen openly, all I can share is my own interpretation. And you, you will take my words and stretch them and push them and try to fit them into some form that works for you. Then you will say that I am perfect or that I am garbage, but it won’t be me. It will be your projection.

And we run this risk even in person, but over a long distance, the difference is extreme. I know this, I know this, yet I still try to form bonds. I cannot resist the urge, as I see so much in you and want to know more. I want to be there, I want to see you, know you, admire you, cherish you.

But you have no idea.

You don’t know that even just the part I see makes you so important to me.

And it hurts. And it’s exhausting. And though logic says others may feel the same about me, experience says that they prefer their projections. Reality is too real. It’s too intense, too meaningful. If they get too close, they have to care, and caring takes effort that they just are not willing to give.

It’s okay. I get it.

So they keep saying “I’m here, I care!” and I keep smiling and nodding and thanking them for their falsehood. They feel good for their offer and are happy to not have to follow through. I feel…

Alone.

Always alone.

But it’s okay! It’s okay, I’m fine! I’ll be back to myself in no time! Really, everything is good! Because if it’s not, then they feel bad, and we can’t have that! I smile and laugh and joke and they don’t see through it, because they don’t want to. We part and all is well.

For them.

But eventually, the mask starts to crack. I panic, and my fear is performed as resentment for having to wear it at all. This is not understood – of course it’s not, how could it be? – and what they see is unwarranted aggression. I cannot blame them. I don’t want to hurt them. I love them.

So I hide. I hide until I can put my”self” back together. I hide until I can fix the false face I will forever hide behind. I hide and my soul cries out for someone to notice, for someone to genuinely care, for someone to offer more than empty words. I turn up the music to drown out the aggressive silence. I lay in darkness and listen to lyrics of what I will never have, and am happy to know that others get to experience that which I long for.

Through this vicarious love, I will heal.

And I will be back to love you. I will wear my mask enthusiastically for you all. I will offer genuine affection, I will show the part of my heart that is full and bright and truly present for you. The honest positivity will shine, hiding the pain from view, and all will be well.

For a while.

But the mask doesn’t last as long as it used to. Sometimes I wonder how long it will be until I have to disappear for good.

But it’s okay! It’s okay, I’m fine! I’ll be back to myself in no time! Really, everything is good!

It has to be.

Nice People Make Me Weak.

I once heard a character say that they were told to get used to drinking their coffee black, because they couldn’t count on there always being cream or sugar. Though I’d already been drinking black coffee, the idea stuck with me.

I’m a simple gal. I don’t need much. I just need the bare minimum to work out. I have to struggle for it, but I don’t mind the struggle as long as it works out in the end. I can fight with the best of ’em, if I know what I’m fighting for.

People come along and try to ease the load. They tell me that I shouldn’t have to do so much. They allow me to make excuses, and even offer some of their own to use. They tell me it’s okay to fail, it’s okay to let someone else take on part of the burden. It’s okay to let things go.

But it’s not.

If I can do it, I need to. If I can’t, I need to try anyway. I need to challenge myself. I need to believe in myself. I need to always move forward, no matter how much harder it gets. I need to keep fighting.

The moment you stop fighting for more is the moment you die.

I don’t want someone to do it for me, I want someone to tell me to do it. I don’t want someone to accept my excuses, I want someone to tell me I’m stronger than that. I don’t want someone to accept my failures, I want someone to believe in my ability to succeed. This is the only way I can continue to grow.

Yes. fight alongside me, but don’t take my kills. Do your part, not mine. Don’t cause me to die before my time. I still have so much fight left in me.

Thank you for your kindness, but give it to someone who needs a gentle touch. Give me the hard truths and harsh realities. I like it rough.

Irate.

It’s after 2 am and I am ENRAGED.

As of this moment, I am a monster. Once every 3 years or so, it all becomes too much. Every overwhelming, over-powered emotion fights to the surface at the same time. Like when mixing all the colors of Crayola, the result is pure shit. And I’m drowning in it.

I’ve felt it coming for a while now. I kept denying it, hoping I could stop it. Still, it would reveal itself. Hurtful outbursts. Moral deviance. Avoidance. My torso bears the scars and open wounds where I tore through my flesh absentmindedly.

I want to scream.

I want to tear the world apart. I want to act with false apathy and take people down. I want to embrace the power. I want to give up self control. I want to set everything ablaze and stand mesmerized by the whipping of the flames. I want to do – without forethought, without empathy, logic, or fear. I want to run wild, untethered and uncaring. I want all to see this monster they have created in me.

But as I sat here, seething, a recent memory came to mind. His not-so-gentle voice soothed me. For hours I stayed lost in thought, then came out of it smiling.

But why him? Why the one who seems the farthest, one who hurts me without a clue? Why this man who I know one day will break me?
And how? How, when my best friend of 20 years could not do the same? How, when I’ve always had to run away?

And how long will this last?

And though those I know will want to ask questions, the identity will be kept safe; safe from them, and safe from him.

I don’t want this to be tainted.

I want this one to stay.