I’m not that old but I’m not a kid either. In terms of my attitude, I’ve always been really young at heart. I never cared for the idea of growing up and being mature and “above” everything else.
I believe experiences and age does make you wiser but that doesn’t entitle you to stamp yourself as “well done”… I don’t think you get to be done, not until you’re dead or your mind goes.
But you grow up in a society that convinces you that there’s only one winning mold. You gotta be like this or you FAIL. And I think for someone like me, having tried to shove myself into that mold for so long has been FAIL. It’s just not me.
My brother would probably say, “you’re being abnormal for the sake of being abnormal.” He thinks I’m all “nonconformity for nonconformity sake.”
But I know what feels comfortable for me and it’s not this shell of a life everyone else casts themselves in. This isn’t home. And I think my latest onslaught of despair has been from me standing in this world full of contentment and feeling unbearably alone. WHY am I the only one unhappy?
I sat at my desk two nights ago just crying from frustration. Look at my life. It’s fucking awesome. I’ve got parents who live for their children, a brother who I’m close with, extremely loyal friends, and I’m with a guy who probably loves me more than any other person in the world possibly could.
What’s wrong with me? And after sitting there for an hour or two, it started to hit me. It’s not that I’m not loved or that my life isn’t full of nice things. Maybe my issue lies with the perceived me that these people love and the perceived life I live. Maybe the heart of the sadness is that it’s not really me.
I’m very disconnected from everyone lately because of this. I have almost always lived my life for everyone else around me. I wanted to be the good daughter, the great sister, and the best friend. When you continue to dress yourself up in other people’s ideals, it’s very easy to lose track of who you really are…or if you even existed at all…maybe all you are is just an idea of what people wanted.
And let me tell you..the thought that I’m empty really has had me reeling for days now.
All those years, all this time, who am I?
And it’s not like I can go all tabula rasa on my life at this point. I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t even want to if I could. Regardless of how I feel now or what I know now, I’m still that molded idea. It’s very solid and has little flexibility now. Plus, how do you even begin to find something from nothing?…