Fourteen weeks.
It has been fourteen weeks since I have last been on here. Fourteen weeks, over a quarter of a year. In that time much has happened to me, but none of that is really worth even mentioning now. The things that are important to me have very little meaning to anyone else, because everyone else has moved on. I see things a bit more clearly now, although it cost me much more then I wanted to give up, if I would have known. I can see this pit I have dug for myself, and how I have filled it with my own self hatred. I see open sky above me, but no way to get there now that I know it really is still there. It is almost more painful seeing the sky and know I am chained down by the chains I forged to keep me sane while my life whas a maelstrom of change, where nothing but my chains were constant. Now those chains are what keep me back, keep me from leaving the way things are, from improving my life.
It really does not matter that I cannot fly at the moment, just being free would be enough for me for quite a while. I needed to pay for something, and so I pulled enough feathers from my wings so that I cannot fly right now, and it may be months before they regrow enough to allow me to fly. They were the only thing I had of any value to give.
The price that I had to pay for this small glimpse of wisdom is that it may have cost me some of the few friendships that I had. It took me quite a while to respond to the one who tried to contact me, and I would probably deserve it if they do not speak with me again, because it probably felt like I was ignoring them, although I was not doing so. Every time I tried to respond, it degenerated into something I could not send, and so I did not. No one wants to spend time with me when I am depressed, and so I refused to force it upon anyone. That is why I did not respond, not because I did not want to talk.
Now, the only question I think anyone really would care about is why did I vanish? What could have caused me to just up and leave when everything seemed to be going well? Partially, it was the fact that I had grown close to someone who then seemed to be just playing me, although what they got out of it was a complete mystery to me. What hurt the worst was that they just stopped talking with me while they were obviously talking with others. *She sighs* I am very sensitive, and playing games like that with me pulled me to pieces. Eventually I could not ignore the pain, and so eventually, when I could not hide it any longer, I left, hoping that I would not then inflict any of my pain upon others. It may not have been a smart move, but it is all that I could have done.
The other reason I left was because I was becoming very depressed. I still do not know if I can bring myself to read other's journals. It is not because I do not want to do so, but because I cannot handle it. I see how happy many of my old friends are, and I do not want to spoil it for them. I know I cannot honestly call many friend anymore. I have lost that privaledge a while back, and I would have to earn it again before I can do so. I look at my friends list, and I only know who half of those on it are. The others I only know through passing, or because they found me through someone else, and I have not had much contact with them.
It shames me sometimes to think about what I have become, how I have become what I have crafted to protect myself. I am now too scared to start a conversation with anyone, even those I care about the most. I rarely do anything strange because I am afraid of what it could end up causing.
I probably should end this now, before I start to ramble, although it is a bit too late for that. I guess I am trying to figure out what exactly I am going to do now, because I really do not know what I should do anymore. What do I have left?
It really does not matter that I cannot fly at the moment, just being free would be enough for me for quite a while. I needed to pay for something, and so I pulled enough feathers from my wings so that I cannot fly right now, and it may be months before they regrow enough to allow me to fly. They were the only thing I had of any value to give.
The price that I had to pay for this small glimpse of wisdom is that it may have cost me some of the few friendships that I had. It took me quite a while to respond to the one who tried to contact me, and I would probably deserve it if they do not speak with me again, because it probably felt like I was ignoring them, although I was not doing so. Every time I tried to respond, it degenerated into something I could not send, and so I did not. No one wants to spend time with me when I am depressed, and so I refused to force it upon anyone. That is why I did not respond, not because I did not want to talk.
Now, the only question I think anyone really would care about is why did I vanish? What could have caused me to just up and leave when everything seemed to be going well? Partially, it was the fact that I had grown close to someone who then seemed to be just playing me, although what they got out of it was a complete mystery to me. What hurt the worst was that they just stopped talking with me while they were obviously talking with others. *She sighs* I am very sensitive, and playing games like that with me pulled me to pieces. Eventually I could not ignore the pain, and so eventually, when I could not hide it any longer, I left, hoping that I would not then inflict any of my pain upon others. It may not have been a smart move, but it is all that I could have done.
The other reason I left was because I was becoming very depressed. I still do not know if I can bring myself to read other's journals. It is not because I do not want to do so, but because I cannot handle it. I see how happy many of my old friends are, and I do not want to spoil it for them. I know I cannot honestly call many friend anymore. I have lost that privaledge a while back, and I would have to earn it again before I can do so. I look at my friends list, and I only know who half of those on it are. The others I only know through passing, or because they found me through someone else, and I have not had much contact with them.
It shames me sometimes to think about what I have become, how I have become what I have crafted to protect myself. I am now too scared to start a conversation with anyone, even those I care about the most. I rarely do anything strange because I am afraid of what it could end up causing.
I probably should end this now, before I start to ramble, although it is a bit too late for that. I guess I am trying to figure out what exactly I am going to do now, because I really do not know what I should do anymore. What do I have left?