(no subject)
I really wish I had some sort of courage to be in touch with myself. To understand exactly what it is I am feeling. And lately it’s just a jumbled up mess that no one sees or knows about. But I feel it, the confusion, the frustration, the fear, the isolation of myself and my needs. And I’ve been thinking a lot more. I’ve been going back to that place where I use to be. That place where my mind was in a constant race with the world around it. But as my mind races my body backs away, it takes the outer appearance of nothing close to the ongoing sensation of what’s inside. And I wish I knew where to begin and I wish I had the courage in myself to figure out what exactly this feeling is all about. But I don’t and I guess that’s the idea that leaves my mind in shambles. That makes all my thoughts intertwined with one another causing them to be nothing short of pointless.
Maybe it’s because everything is happening so fast, maybe it’s because everything changed within an instant of simply closing and reopening my eyes or maybe it was all happening all along and I was just too blind to see it in its prime. Whatever the reason, this feeling exists and it’s almost sickening. It’s a feeling of bitterment, bitterment to what’s here and now, to what’s to come. With me. It’s settling in, slowly, the realization of where and what everything is. It’s all coming to the point where it all makes sense, and with that makes no sense to me at all. How everything can be laid out to fit a new beginning, a new beginning when I haven’t started taking acceptance to figuring out the ending of this one.
I don’t blame anyone for it, I only blame myself. they are my fears, they are my closures, it’s me being unable to move forward, it’s me not taking the initiative I should, it’s me expecting more than I should. I'm letting myself down and hurting from it. But sometimes it’s okay to hurt. Sometimes it’s alright to lose control. Why that is though, an answer only ones able to find once the hurt is gone and once the control is established.
Since the death of my pepee, I found myself at a standstill. I find myself feeling sick, both emotionally and physically. I’m worn out. I’m worn out from all that it brought to my attention. Everything rolled into one. It set me on a new path, a path that I can't make my way through, lost in its twists and turns, and lost in meeting the many forks in the road. Questioning what it is that is right or wrong, not right now but for when I finally find my way through the pathway. But that's not how I should be looking at it. Maybe logically, maybe to be set and happy for the future. But what does that do to my right now. Where does that fit into my wants and my needs as who I am today, not to whom and where I’ll be in the future? No one knows what will become of that, how many more roads I will be forced to go through, and how many forks I will meet along the way. I need to be happy right now, I need to let myself be happy right now. And even though I can feel that, even though I know that it’s there and I know all that I recently said is true. I still feel this way. Unsure of everything I believe, everything I stand for and everything I want. I’m unprepared, unaware and unwilling at a time I should be feeling the opposite if it all.
Right now what I see for my future is my mom. I see it, the similarities, the causes, the symptoms, and the fear. It’s all there. I see it and I feel it and with that I fear it. I fear to let people get close, to have them feel an ounce of what I felt on Monday, only a fragment of what I will feel my entire life. Sitting there, in the front pew, I felt a sense of guilt. Guilt that I couldn't cry for the man laying in a box only 3 steps from me as I watched the rest of the lines eyes fill with tears, everyone besides that of me and my mother. Me because I didn’t care, and my mother because she didn’t know, she didn’t understand that that was her father before us. and it was then I realised that, it was when I looked on the ground and noticed that the woman next to me shared the same feet that I have be deemed with, that was the only tear I could shed. That single tear in my right eye and then resume to feel nothing again.
There’s a line that I like to cross with myself. I like to feel pity, and I think I enjoy it. I pity myself, and I let that pity control my emotions and my actions. I put so much emphasis on my needs and fail to look at everyone else’s. I’m selfish, not in how I portray myself, but in how my emotions act. It just seems life isn’t going to give up on me, and I can’t give up on it. I just have to find its medium, find out what it is I need to take from it, who I need to take from it and focus in on that. I know nothings ever perfect, I know things take time, they take effort. Nothing just is. I just can’t let go, I’m afraid to move onward, and that I know, will be my downfall in the end. Words are what grab my attention the most. And I take in everything people say, and I feel it. And I pick it apart, and I pick myself apart in reading them. I know I shouldn’t do it, I know it wasn’t meant the way I feel it, but it’s in my past, and you brought it to the present as simply as a sentence, and that scares me. And I think that scares me so much, because it\s now that I realise how fragile and weak that I still am. Because of the way it affected me, because I see the change that it is causing with me. It leaves me at a place I don’t want to go back to, but then again it’s a place where I feel secure and safe. It’s a place that only I am aloud to control and understand. It has been my security blanket, and it always will be. I carry the thoughts everywhere I go, but I know the limits now, I just fear the next step in that. That if a simple sentence could make me rethink it all, what will happen as time continues to pass, when my reality and my control start to take over will.