I start projects and never finish them. I'm afraid of most people. I aspire to greatness, but sabotage my success.
I like bacon and Doctor Who and post it notes. Actually, I love those things.
I write long ass posts about what's going on inside my mind and my heart. I reblog things that make me laugh or think.
Sophia Dembling, The Introvert’s Way: Living a Quiet Life in a Noisy World (Perigee Trade, 2012)
I know that I’m supposed to be grateful that people know when something is wrong and that they care enough to ask. I know that I am supposed to smile and nod and simply say “I’m sorry I’m off. I’m just a bit tired.”
The more off I seem, the more people grow concerned and try to fix it, which really just makes things worse. So when I need to be alone and not talking to anyone and just curling up in a ball crying and wishing I was dead, I know that to do so would only raise more questions like “why?” And open the doors to all kinds of useless judgement statements that really only make them feel better and me feel worse. Statements such as “there’s a solution to every problem” “smile!” And “if only you just saw how wonderful you are”.
And I just don’t have the energy. I can’t. I just can’t. I cannot cope with the burden I am on my friends. I cannot cope with the worse burden I will be if they actually see.
Penny tells me “that’s what friends are for” “you’ll never be a burden” “you’re worth it” “I promise you, I’m not like the others” and I just don’t have the energy. Every time she says it, I just want to give her Ocean’s phone number. Every human being I have ever encountered has said the exact same thing to me and every single one of them was lying. And what can I do? They honestly believe they’ll be different. Even those who know the reality honestly believe they’ll be different and I just can’t handle the responsibility of having to soothe their egos right now by feeding into their saviour complexes. I passed her off on My Sister yesterday because I just couldn’t even handle talking to her, but if I didn’t, I knew she’d freak out.
I wish I could disappear. I just want to go to my damn classes and sit there and do what I need to do. I don’t have the energy to talk or pretend to be cheery or crack jokes. But it’s either that or answer to the people asking “what’s wrong? It’s okay to talk about it.” And deal with them acting like it’s some slight against them when I just don’t want to engage.
So I mean really, my survival is dependent on the lies I tell. And I have to choose which lies to tell to whom.
The message was heard loud and clear. They would help me through that one time because they loved me, but if I ever felt like that again, I would be on my own.
Because after all, this feeling isn’t real. This feeling is an illness that I should be seeking treatment for. And yet every practitioner tells me the feeling isn’t real, it’s a cry for attention and if I’d just stop being such a selfish drama queen, I would be so much better.
So here I am struggling, knowing that I’m not too far from crazy, knowing that I’m on my own. Knowing that I need to keep up appearances, but even keeping up those appearances is getting harder and harder.
And so I fight to make it just one more day, resentful that I still fight this fight. Sad that I have nowhere to turn. Because my friends won’t go,through this again and mental health practitioners roll their eyes at me and tell me that Only I can hold myself together. Until I can’t anymore.
So I do what needs to be done. Eat. Sleep. Exercise. All the while knowing that if for a second I thought I’d actually succeed, there would be no question. Dreaming if ways I can actually get it done. Desperately clinging for dear life to my sanity, knowing I’m only a few steps away from crazy.
In all the time we’ve known each other, I’ve never been mad at her. I’ve never been upset with her. I’ve always been able to be completely me, and she has always loved me. She has always gone out of her way to love me.
And on some level, I guess I had to know it would end. There was no way our lives could stay the same.
Eventually, just like all the others, I had to have known that I would one day drift into oblivion.
But I just wasn’t ready for it. I’m still kicking and screaming begging it to not be over.
The end has come. Even if I ever see her again, it will never be the same. I’ll see her less and less until finally I look back and realize I haven’t seen her in years.
And I fade into oblivion. First my best friend starts to drift and now my wife.
I had to have known that even this could not last.
I’ve always been called a drama queen. I’ve always been told I need to learn to keep my emotions under wraps. People roll their eyes at me and tell me I’m too emotional, I wear my heart on my sleeve, I let my feelings get in the way too much.
I’ve always felt crippled by my emotions. They’ve run my life, they’ve derailed my life. They’ve stood in the way of work and dreams and relationships. For when the world is good, it is very, very good and when the world is bad, it feels like it is ending.
I’ve always wished I could pull off a poker face or have at least a little bit of mystery to me. I’ve wished I could smile when I really want to cry or keep my cool when things aren’t going my way.
But it’s never been me. And it’s never been cute or romantic. It’s had me bullied and teased because it’s so easy to make me cry. It was so easy to scare me so much that I would hide in the bathroom or under a desk, so it was funny.
And so I grew up admiring Data, wishing I could be him. He didn’t have emotions. He relied on logic to evaluate situations and make decisions.
Yes, Picard was diplomatic and poised yet still assertive, but I didn’t really pick up on these qualities until I was much older.
Still, the idea of a being that felt nothing. No sadness, no joy, no anger, no pain, no love… How I wished that I could live in that world. A world with no feelings, a world that just was.
So knowing all this, knowing that most of the time, I still wish I couldn’t feel or at the very least my emotions served some purpose besides fucking up my life, would it not make sense that I would dive into the study of math, reasoning, computers and science?
Medication has proven ineffective. Therapy slow moving at best.
But the world of logic has given me a chance to learn to think like Data. So while I will likely never become an android, maybe, just maybe I can learn to at least think like one.