|
|
 |
|
|
|
04/18/2011 - 04/19/2011
I've been a loner since early on in middle
school; not that connecting with other people has ever been easy for me. Opening up to anyone, allowing myself
to let anyone close enough to know the real me, has always been next to impossible. It's much easier to lie and
make myself seem more interesting than I am, or to just push people away, than it is to trust.
Trusting that I am good enough for anyone or anything, or that everyone I meet isn't going to maliciously hurt me just isn't
in me and hasn't been since I was a kid. I really am that insecure and vulnerable, though it disgusts me to admit to. My family
has always wondered, and think I can admit it now: that's the thing I have always hated about myself. I think it's selfish,
and it's weak, and I don't like those traits in a person. I certainly can't reconcile myself with it being a part
of me.
I'd like to be able to truthfully say I'm not inherently selfish or weak. But I can't.
Even writing these words is mostly about me; though I would like to be a better person for my family too, not just for myself.
The writing and reading that I do doesn't get anything productive done. And it sure as Hell doesn't help anyone, least of
all me; emotional outlets are good, but sometimes you should just feel.
In the last six years,
my preoccupation with the online writing community has done more harm than anything. I've had two computers go out on me and
I'm working on a third. I've lost multiple battles with the on-going weight problems I've struggled with since my preteens.
My sleep patterns have been entirely disrupted because of nights where I pushed myself to stay awake longer; there were even
days when I completely deprived myself of sleep because I wasn't willing to stop what I was doing. I've distanced myself from
my family, both the immediate and the few relatives I have that I actually enjoyed being in the company of as
a child. I've even alienated the few childhood friends I've maintained contact with.
I'll always
enjoy reading and I love writing. I like knowing that my work brings someone else enjoyment. I like knowing my characters
so intimately. I have rarely felt closer to anyone than I do the characters I read and write about. They feel like the best
friends I've ever known.
But that's not a life. Belief, love, and laughter, right? It's a phrase
I frequently repeat in my internal monologue, even if I have no idea where it came from. It sounds like a noble life philosophy,
or a creed, or a motto--whatever you want to call it, it's one I'd like to be able to claim for myself.
Here I am, running off at the mind again. This is what initially had me set pen to paper last night/early this morning when
I originally began this little... philosophical... diatribe: I think about school a lot, lately; Hell, I've even had more
than a few really weird dreams about it--of course, sometimes there were also zombies or vampires involved ( :P ). I'm not
a psychologist, but I think it stems from my regrets over not doing as well as I could have, and over just giving up and dropping
out. Disturbingly enough, for someone who never really liked school, I find that I genuinely miss it.
School gives you a sense of community. I'm sure you remember what I'm talking about. Whether you loved or hated them, your
peers bore the same brand; it was like an extended clan, so to speak. They knew what was up; and even if they didn't know
you personally, someone knew you existed. And there was always a challenge--one you had no choice but to answer. That is what
I miss about school.
Maybe these thoughts are coming to me because at this point in my life, I have
nothing going for me. I didn't finish school, I don't have a job, I'm not involved in anything. If my mother died today, I'd
have no way to support myself, and I'd have no support system to fall back on. I couldn't depend on my siblings or anyone
else to take care of me, nor would I want to try. I would essentially be alone.
Fear has been a
pretty strong motivator in my life so far. I mean, I even quit smoking cold turkey when I felt like I couldn't breathe because
my anxiety attacks were getting so severe. So these realizations should help, right? I'm kidding; mostly. I know fear can't
be the driving force behind a new start.
I don't know what to do. For the first time in my life,
I'm even genuinely considering looking to church for answers. Not as a solution, of course. I'm no zealot. I don't believe
some all powerful being will solve all my problems for me. And even if I did, I wouldn't want them to.
How could I figure out who I am, where I want to go, or what's important to me, if someone else did all the work? The
question I now pose to myself is this: how can I figure out any of this if I never even try?
Artical by KW Jordan
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
To live is to love, to laugh, and to believe.
|
|
|
|
