Un

I’d gotten used to sleeping alone. I’d gotten used to doing things by myself. Being in my own mind all the time.

 

To borrow a phrase;

so it goes.

 

I mean, it’s no big deal. It’s really not. I open myself up too much. I get too excited. I daydream too much. I think that maybe things could work, even when everything stacks against me and says that it won’t.

 

It can’t.

 

The company of others won’t fix what’s broken inside of you, but it can certainly help stave off the feelings of unworth. All of those “un” words.

 

Undesirable.

Unloved.

Unwanted.

Unworthy.

 

Un.

 

Sometimes when you feel “un-everything” for too long, it’s easy to lose yourself to someone who makes you leave the un’s behind.

 

But that’s not healthy either.

 

It’s not fair to put all of your own un’s onto another person. It’s not fair to rely on anyone but yourself for your own mental well-being. Because they need to do the same for themselves. It’s not healthy to elevate need above love for someone.

Rational thinking doesn’t rid the hurt, but it can help reassemble the pieces of your own self worth.

 

Sometimes.

And sometimes when the normality of your world is whirlwinded by another, it’s nearly impossible to go back to the feeling of being “used to” anything in the same way.

 

Like sleeping alone. Cooking for one. Calling friends, trying to find other people who will help stave off the loneliness, only to find that everyone else has someone else looking out for them, and you usually come up lower on their radar.

 

You told me to write how I feel. I guess I’m writing less about you, and it’s more about me.

 

But isn’t that how all of us operate anyway?

 

We project how we feel onto another person. Others end up embodying some trait, virtue, fear, or desire. We project.

 

I don’t know what I was projecting.

 

I think I got lost in your eyes too quickly.

 

It had been so long since I’ve stared into someones eyes like that, and watched as they stared back straight into mine. When that happens, and it has been a long time, it feels like someone is seeing you for the first time. Because most of the time, it feels like no one sees me. It sucks to feel like you’re never seen.

No one wants to feel invisible, although we may have daydreamed of all the cool stuff we could get away with if we were.

 

But we wouldn’t want it to last.

 

Sometimes it’s nice to feel invisible, just for a while. Just while we work through whatever it is we’re working on it. But when we emerge from whatever it is we’re working on it, we always want to be seen again.

It’s hard to get over the feeling of being seen for the first time, when you’ve felt invisible for so long. And it’s even more difficult when you feel as if you saw them too.

 

Really saw them.

 

Because real connection today is fleeting. It’s rare to see inside someone, to feel like, if even for a little while, you glimpsed a piece of what makes them human. A piece of their consciousness, and not just what they’re projecting onto themselves for the sake of others.

And I guess I feel like companionship balances me.

 

When left to my own devices my mind tends to get really far out into the tiny universe I wrap myself in.

 

I’ll sit, or stand shakily questioning the nature of reality, with thoughts like

 

“why me human,”

 

scrambling through my brain.

 

Sometimes I crave a lobotomy.

 

Sometimes I crave to feel less intellectual and intelligent, despite how douchey that might sound. I feel like most humans don’t spend this much time stuck in their own heads, questioning the world around them.

 

So I keep my world small, because when I branch out too far, it feels like my mind gets even further away from me, and things start falling out of place.

 

I often crave to be mind-numb, but at the same time feel I have too much inner strength, and would rather rely on my own willpower than external substances…

 

But I’m still medicated, even though it’s only a fraction of what I am supposed to be on. Just enough to keep me from going totally mad.

 

Madness sucks.

 

Feeling like you’re losing grasp of reality just by existing and breathing.

Yet, despite wanting to feel less in my own head, I wish I could let others in, and be let in as well.

Because connection is the opposite of alienation.

 

Connection counteracts loneliness, and feeling understood makes you feel less alone.

 

Although

 

I’m not sure if I believe any of us can truly understand each other.

 

I’ll never know how you really feel.

 

I can relate my own experiences and feelings to what you tell me, and how you look, but I still have no idea.

 

But you can still try to get as close to understanding as possible, and I think that’s

 

the best any of us can do.

What if?

I hate the feeling of apprehension.

A million fucking “what if’s” run through my head before I do anything.

I’ve been doing better lately, but I can’t get these fucking “what if” scenarios out of my head.

Currently it’s, “yeah, I want to go to the party, but what if I get a panic attack and embarrass you/myself? What if I hyperventilate and die? What if I get so panicked on the drive over that I try to jump out of a moving vehicle? What if I panic on the drive over? What if people are doing drugs there? What if I get a contact high? What if I  get stranded there? What if I can’t get a ride back home?” And it continues. And I work myself up into a frenzy, which is where I am currently.

I just wish I could stop thinking about all of these what-if scenarios and just be in the present moment. I’ve been doing a lot of mindful meditation, have been pouring through everything by Eckhart Tolle, trying to pull myself into the present moment and out of these overwhelming unlikely future possible scenarios. Ugh.

What if I have fun? What if I actually make some fucking friends? Jesus. I need to calm the fuck down.

I hate drinking, but I think I’ll go pour myself a stiff one.

I have no idea how my love life is so complicated.

Seriously. I never leave the house.

I keep dating people that I knew ten years ago. They keep coming into my life, and it’s crazy.

And they always have issues that rival mine.

Still dealing with the borderline personality disorder that I dumped 6+ months ago. Seriously – what the hell is up with this? I broke up with him over six months ago and I’m still getting harassed on a near daily basis. He particularly enjoys finding all of my insecurities and throwing them in my face, trying to manipulate me into letting him come over, and when I say no, going off on hour long tangents about how fucked up I am.

Then there’s the guy I’ve been seeing lately who I’ve known for like 14 years. And he still looks like he wants to be Sid Vicious. Why do I find that so attractive? I have a weakness for tall dark haired boys in leather jackets and skinny jeans. And why do they always have to be ex-junkies? Why? Why do they always have to be so damned tortured? But it’s nice staying up all night with someone while they recite Shakespeare to you between swing dancing to Nick Cave songs and odd Johnny Thunders and Cramps songs. And he has successfully gotten me out of the house on multiple occasions now. Three grocery store trips! This is like, a six month record for me.

I feel like I just let things happen, as opposed to actually making decisions and taking charge of my life. But most of the time I don’t even know what I want. I feel totally lost, and I am trying so hard to hang on. I feel like I’m fighting to exist. I have no idea. Thanks for listening.