Feelings. Nothing more than feelings
Thursday morning. Overcast, dark and cold. Matches the way Ive been feeling perfectly.
I can’t explain whats wrong, or why I feel like this. It’s too hard. I can’t even explain it to myself let alone someone else. So I’ll start writing and see where it leads…maybe it’ll help me unjumble everything that is bouncing around in my head.
I feel like Im on the outside looking in. Everyone else is happy and connected to each other. They laugh and hug and enjoy each others company, while I sit in the corner yearning to be able to connect like that. But Iam the outsider, no matter how much I scream for love and attention it doesn’t come. Is it because my definition of love is somehow wrong? Is it because I expect too much? Will I ever just be…happy?
I don’t feel like people know me. I don’t feel like they want to. It’s just easier having a superficial relationship with a person. Catch up, have a few drinks, laugh at the world and then go home. Most of this is my fault, I don’t like feeling vulnerable, therefore I don’t express whats truly important. Even when someone starts that conversation I honestly don’t know how to. I can’t just open my mouth and say what I believe, express how I feel. I sit there, like an uncomfortable mess just waiting for the moment to pass. I wish I knew how to connect and just be comfortable.
I also have a horrible habit of trusting and opening up to the wrong people. Which just adds to my anxiety and defective emotions. That word…defective…that’s the word. That’s the way I feel about myself. I feel as if Im defective. That’s what makes me not worth the time, that is what makes people put me to the bottom of the priority list. I can try as much as I like, but I will never taken seriously or be given priority.
I’m aware that a lot of this is my own doing. As I mentioned, I don’t like being vulnerable. So I act tough. I’m aggressive. I laugh. I joke around and don’t take much seriously.
But I wish people knew. I wish they knew how much I think about them. Always trying to find ways to make their lives brighter or better. I wish they knew of the hours and hours I spend by myself crying because their words hurt so much. They don’t know about the anxiety attacks. They don’t know that I would do anything just to feel loved.
I can’t explain whats wrong, or why I feel like this. It’s too hard. I can’t even explain it to myself let alone someone else. So I’ll start writing and see where it leads…maybe it’ll help me unjumble everything that is bouncing around in my head.
I feel like Im on the outside looking in. Everyone else is happy and connected to each other. They laugh and hug and enjoy each others company, while I sit in the corner yearning to be able to connect like that. But Iam the outsider, no matter how much I scream for love and attention it doesn’t come. Is it because my definition of love is somehow wrong? Is it because I expect too much? Will I ever just be…happy?
I don’t feel like people know me. I don’t feel like they want to. It’s just easier having a superficial relationship with a person. Catch up, have a few drinks, laugh at the world and then go home. Most of this is my fault, I don’t like feeling vulnerable, therefore I don’t express whats truly important. Even when someone starts that conversation I honestly don’t know how to. I can’t just open my mouth and say what I believe, express how I feel. I sit there, like an uncomfortable mess just waiting for the moment to pass. I wish I knew how to connect and just be comfortable.
I also have a horrible habit of trusting and opening up to the wrong people. Which just adds to my anxiety and defective emotions. That word…defective…that’s the word. That’s the way I feel about myself. I feel as if Im defective. That’s what makes me not worth the time, that is what makes people put me to the bottom of the priority list. I can try as much as I like, but I will never taken seriously or be given priority.
I’m aware that a lot of this is my own doing. As I mentioned, I don’t like being vulnerable. So I act tough. I’m aggressive. I laugh. I joke around and don’t take much seriously.
But I wish people knew. I wish they knew how much I think about them. Always trying to find ways to make their lives brighter or better. I wish they knew of the hours and hours I spend by myself crying because their words hurt so much. They don’t know about the anxiety attacks. They don’t know that I would do anything just to feel loved.