I feel locked up in my head and I’m scared of myself.
I’ve been raised to always always always defend myself and my point of view and being wrong is one of the scariest things I can imagine. because when you’re wrong, you’re weird. when you’re weird, you’re different. when you’re different, you’re alone.
and I always feel I’m alone. because among my mother, sister, brothers and other people, I feel like I’m dumb and wrong, and that I can’t communicate on their level.
But among other people I feel too smart. because I always think matters through too much. and come with equations, metaphors, wise saying. And they stare at me blankly, like ‘what the hell are you talking about?’. But I don’t know how to dumb down to their level and frankly, I feel like I’m very arrogant for thinking this about myself.
and the feeling of being alone scares me. the feeling that I don’t matter. that people don’t care about me. they put up fronts and masks of smiles, but behind my back, they must think I’m annoying and exhausting and demanding.
because I care about so many things that don’t matter. and can spend hours talking, doing, researching those things. but I care too little on things that matter a lot. because they are important and I’m scared that how I reply will not be perfect and won’t be of help. and so, I lock myself off on those kinds of conversations. because I’m too tired to discuss them. and what scares me is to say things like I’m doing right now. talk about myself. talk about what’s wrong with me, vainly hoping that people will somehow care. but even if they care, from the bottom of their too good heart: I won’t believe them. despite my mind telling me ‘of course they care. they are good people and i’m important to them. ‘ images are created in my mind that people sigh annoyed about me being melodramatic. that they’d only want to help me to feel better about themselves, in some form of Nobles Oblige. And what worse, I believe I’m a person like that as well. Rationally, I know I try hard to help a person. but the thoughts creep me that I’m just trying to be self-important and ‘look at me being a source of life wisdom’.
I think a lot of thoughts I know absolutely sure that I don’t mean them. Thoughts about racism, sexism, terrible thoughts about good people, good thoughts about terrible people, thoughts I know I would have to say to hurt a person the most. and I know I don’t mean them. I know I’m not saying them. I know those thoughts aren’t how I really feel. But I live with the constant fear that I might forget I don’t mean them and will say them out loud. I’m scared to break things that can’t be repaired. I’m scared to lose myself. and by that, lose everything around me.
I don’t know where I’m going. or what I should do. Me, who always has perfect answers on what others should do. I never practice what I preach. and I don’t know what advice I should give myself. Because what am I to do? How can I be an upstanding member of society? how can I live on my own? how can I keep social contacts? how do I get a job I can handle, and keep it? how can I learn right people from poisonous ones? And am i the one poisoning them?
I’m a very clingy person by nature. because I could never find anyone to connect to when I was little. I looked 4 years older because of my length. and on intelligence, I was 4 years older as well. But emotionally, I was halve my actual age. And so in class, I felt left out. because emotionally, everyone was older then me. but in intelligence, everyone was younger. and so, the people I DID find who could endure me, my weirdness, my disconnection to reality, I clung on to them tightly. choke holding. they were mine.
and who would want to stick around a person like that? I’m so high maintenance and fickle and childish. If I wasn’t first place to them, I believed I might as well not exist. I could say that they were absolutely first place to me. because that’s how I acted. I would jump through fire and water for people who wouldn’t even bother about me. But looking back, I believe I might have just been loving myself all the time. or at least, I needed someone to prove me wrong about my self-loathing. But no one can prove me wrong. I’ve been learned all my life that I can’t be wrong. and the more i learn about myself, the more I believe that I’m actually a pretty shitty person.
I can’t let go. not of people. not of thoughts either. If I’ve lost a thought, a fact, a name, an argument, I will spend hours obsessing over it, even if the one I was talking to lost interest long ago. and lately, because I’ve been stressful, I end up losing more thoughts. short term memory. something I wanted to say, but forgot. and the more I forget, the more I obsess, trying to remember.
when I told my mother these things an hour ago, she told me: ‘put your mind on other things for a little’ And that’s exactly what I’ve been doing. always. and even more intensely since puberty: Drowning myself in fantasy. anime. manga. drawing. writing. acting. gaming. roleplaying. mundane things. It is my way to run away from reality. But there is so much to run away from. too much to run away from. and feeling embarrassed about myself. because ‘pts, what real life problems do I have, anyway? I’ve got a stable home. my parents are together. lots of people around me. 3 meals a day. a cat. a warm bed, a home. I’m overreacting, and so no one should have to bother with my tiny problems. and I’m the worst. because I can’t even handle these tiny problems.’ and so, I spend more and more time, running away.
and it results in me never telling people about my reality. it results in me not knowing how to deal with other people’s reality. and it makes me tired. Tired. Tired. I don’t do anything, the entire day, but I’m simply exhausted with myself. Because my body doesn’t do anything. but every day, my brain is running a marathon. And that makes me tired. Too tired to go outside. Too tired to do something productive too tired to stop myself from doing things I know I shouldn’t do. (that which people so affectionately call ‘sinning’. it is a real problem to me.) Too tired to socialize. To tired to even THINK about my religion, even though it means so much to me. to tired to defend my God as well. Too tired to talk to people. over internet, on the phone, in real life. people who mean nothing to me. and people who mean the world to me. and because of that, I isolate myself. Because it’s a continuous choosing between ‘am I scared to be alone?’ or ‘am I to tired?’ and I neglect people who I should love. I neglect things people want me to do. I don’t have the strength to do the things I love to do. I can’t live up to any responsibility. And I’m scared. and alone. and tired. I don’t know any way out. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I have no hope for it to ever go away or even improve a little in any way that will stay permanent.
