this isn’t the case so very often anymore, and the relief is unspeakable!! …
There is so much stigma, and I have been severely and unfairly judged by people near & dear, but not least by myself, all of which makes this work hard and, to be honest, boring.
… though, true to its nature, my illness occasionally brings me under the weather, as if to remind me that it’s always there, lurking deep inside my mind. rare but so frustrating, as my world falls apart once in a while.Demands. Desires. Choices. Needs. Wants. Using these words with resulting success implies a life lived in luxury. Luxury is relative. If I lived a life of what I consider luxury I’d feel guilty towards all those who don’t, that’s how I’m programmed to function, but I am entitled to demands, desires, choices, needs, wants, etc, right?
Typical me: I know what I want and deserve, and I want it now. This will set me free (sorry for the cliché) and enable me again to do what I do best, what is good for me and I want to do. Again, everything is relative. And this fact stares me in the face constantly, scaring me.
I really don’t belong here. I don’t mean to sound like a pathetic victim, as I know I can just move somewhere else, and try to belong there. This is in a way the theme of my life. I’ve always felt like an outsider and alone. Tho I have loving lovely friends and family, have had great jobs with fab colleagues. I amuse myself!, but not always others:) I’ve struggled to find a way to be normal but …
Thought: Why should I want to? I actually abhor the norm, the normal. It’s boring. I am not boring. So I should be pleased with myself! Those who love me think I’m a sweet and funny sort of odd, inventive, very loving, different in a cool way, they call it cute characteristics. It doesn’t hurt that I am fun:) I sound ridiculously boastful. I am not. These are just facts. I don’t feel tied down like I do here, by expectations, duties, conventions and perceptions. I can just be me. Is that selfish? What if it’s the only time I actually feel good? That is, until I meet people I foolishly love & trust, then being myself becomes a burden again, to me and them.
Ri.di.cu.lous. Sigh. Not to mention the fact that my self-esteem had taken a serious lashing due to the rejection, towhich I am ultra sensitive for a good reason, and due to depression it (self-esteem) had already sunk to an all time low. Getting up from there … I’m still working on it. It’s still boring.
Anxious, bored, makes me feel trapped. I love being in new places and having to learn to live there, having to get to know new people, find shops, doctors, dentist, a flat, where to buy shoes, food, my fave mascara, discovery basically. I’m infantile, that’s what it sound like. Like life is one big exciting discovery. It might be so in parts, but generally it’s mundane. If it’s a matter of not being properly grown up, when will I grow up? I don’t shy away from responsibilities, though mundane!
I am a little chuffed to report that I’ve learned some things about myself over the last year which utterly surprise me. They’re cliché-ish and trite, but true.
• I do not trust anyone fully. :( Friends, lovers & family alike, I always keep them at arm’s length as I know it’s only a matter of time before they reject or have enough of me. I am not thinking abt this constantly, but now I am aware of it and how it effects my communication with loved ones. Awareness leads to fixing things, or so I hope.
• I have a hard time expressing myself abt important things – not in this entry though but writing it has been a bit of struggle. All other entries of mine are rather shallow, though true. To one person I’ve said it all, and to some I have taken a load of my heart without delving into the deep, the area which requires trust. I have observed that speaking to strangers is easier for me than speaking with those close to me, simply, perhaps imagined, expectations and/or suspected rejection of the latter.
• I lack roots (constantly moving from place to place from infancy) which causes me to feel foreign in my home and more at ease where I am uncomfortable. Another theme. I have once been brave enough to try to develop roots in order to feel safe and real, but instead of choosing a place / cause / job / life philosophy / myself!, or something similar, I made my roots in a person I loved and worked hard on trusting. That didn’t go so well. And I’ve since been told that my roots, safety and stability, should not be based in a person. So childish of me to think otherwise!, but then, I wasn’t thinking at the time.
I’m not ashamed of these matters. They are or were a complete surprise to me, and if someone had told me they experienced this, I would have been nothing but understanding, though hardly empathetic. Until now. Now I empathise. Writing all of the above, I know I’ve come a long way. It sounds melancholy and stuff, but when the melancholy fit shall fall Sudden from heaven like a weeping cloud, that fosters the droop-headed flowers all, And hides the green hill in an April breeze; Or if thy mistress some rich anger shows, Emprison her soft hand, and let her rave, and feed deep, deep upon her peerless eyes. I am getting better and that’s the main thing. When I say “getting better” I really mean that I am good now, not sicks anymore, but I have hopes of feeling better and being in more control of my self than ever before, and I am working towards that. I deserve that. I am able to do just that!.... Geezzz I wrote alot tonite... whats been inside me???? creeppyyy.... :)
