I'm so tired.
Not in that traditional, I'm mentally or physically exhausted kind of way. It's more along the lines of how emotionally tired I am. I'm trying so deperately hard to get past that apathy I trained myself into for so many years. Why, why did I do that to myself? Why did I do that to the people I cared about? Because they would hurt me? Because I would hurt them?
Was it just that I was afraid of building relationships?
Now that I'm allowing myself to make friends and care about my family, I don't know what to do. I can't handle all of it that I bottled for so long.
The schedule I carefully maintained and perpetuated...when I could feel happy, when I could feel sad...who I would show what to...what good did it do to me? All I've managed to do is alienate myself from people I could have had good relationships with and to severly taint those good relationships that THOSE people who pursued ME managed to build. It's not fair to them...it's emotionally retarded me, and now I don't know how to deal with the feelings I'm realizing that I feel.
As I begin to come into myself, I realize that, to spite myuself I care about these people. I love their stupid idiosyncracies and flaws...the beautiful screw-ups...my God. And then there are the good things in them that I'm supposed to love.
Yes, it's occured to me more often than not that I do not deserve these people. It occurs to me in the quiet of my empty room or the secluded thoughts I manage in a crowded room.
And now I'm tired. I can't control when and how I feel...and it's strenuous. Before I could display my emotion on my face and explain it away to the witness...to the point that everyone just wrote off what I would say. Now I have this strange impulse to be honest...and I find myself hoping and praying to God that they'll continue to write it off. I'm leaving myself naked, but like the King's new clothes I've managed to convince everyone that I'm not naked...that I'm in control.
God I hate myself.
There are so many lovely people...and yet I'm going to do what I've always done. Hide. Retreat into myself. That's going to be Santa Cruz. For two years. It'll be COC, it'll be Canyon, it'll be fucking La Mesa.
But there will be one difference.
At least those I care about will be allowed in to my quirky ruminations.
At least I've got that.
Was it just that I was afraid of building relationships?
Now that I'm allowing myself to make friends and care about my family, I don't know what to do. I can't handle all of it that I bottled for so long.
The schedule I carefully maintained and perpetuated...when I could feel happy, when I could feel sad...who I would show what to...what good did it do to me? All I've managed to do is alienate myself from people I could have had good relationships with and to severly taint those good relationships that THOSE people who pursued ME managed to build. It's not fair to them...it's emotionally retarded me, and now I don't know how to deal with the feelings I'm realizing that I feel.
As I begin to come into myself, I realize that, to spite myuself I care about these people. I love their stupid idiosyncracies and flaws...the beautiful screw-ups...my God. And then there are the good things in them that I'm supposed to love.
Yes, it's occured to me more often than not that I do not deserve these people. It occurs to me in the quiet of my empty room or the secluded thoughts I manage in a crowded room.
And now I'm tired. I can't control when and how I feel...and it's strenuous. Before I could display my emotion on my face and explain it away to the witness...to the point that everyone just wrote off what I would say. Now I have this strange impulse to be honest...and I find myself hoping and praying to God that they'll continue to write it off. I'm leaving myself naked, but like the King's new clothes I've managed to convince everyone that I'm not naked...that I'm in control.
God I hate myself.
There are so many lovely people...and yet I'm going to do what I've always done. Hide. Retreat into myself. That's going to be Santa Cruz. For two years. It'll be COC, it'll be Canyon, it'll be fucking La Mesa.
But there will be one difference.
At least those I care about will be allowed in to my quirky ruminations.
At least I've got that.