Archive for June, 2014


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And back to this. I have decided I still want/need some sort of written outlet for my mental ponderings. I’m not often very articulate with the written word, often struggling to morph the jumblings of my brain into intelligible language. Stop-start, stop-start. Delete. Give up. The usual progression. I am even finding it difficult to arrange the words together to speak with friends lately. I feel these rumblings and insecurities but cannot find the words to express what it actually is that I feel.

Perhaps I have completely run out of ways to explain the same old problems. Maybe I have lost some of my creative abilities. Maybe I am just burned out on it all.

Despite many things in my life that are going well, I have been mired in a thick glop of depression lately; a sullen swamp of negative thoughts and self-defeating emotions that cast shadows on otherwise sunny days. My thoughts keep turning inwards, criticizing each of my many flaws as if they are gaping scars instead of the minor nicks they likely are. Earlier this month, I posted about how it takes so many positive remarks to build me up even an inch, but only one negative criticism is all it takes to send me crashing down. Each of my self-perceived flaws feels like it screams as passers by, alerting the entire world of my shortcomings. No one else probably even takes notice of my banality, that I am even sharing the same air, but I feel as if every eye, every glance is a critical disapproval of who and what I am.

Nowhere else is this better exemplified than in my daily interactions. I always feel second-class, like those who are forced to share an office space with must put on faces just survive the interaction, suffering my presence only as long as they must. Attitudes change when I am involved; a person might say “hi” to me as a blunt and unaffected response to an attempt at a pleasant “good morning” and then respond to a different person who says the same thing with a giant, ebullient “heeeeyyy!” So why the difference? Why am I not worthy of the same excitement? What is it exactly about me that tells the entirety of the rest of the world to disregard me as some sort of toss-off.

I wrestle with that a lot. Why do I have so few truly close friends? How come there isn’t really a single person I can just call or text and have them be up for anything? Also, how come the closest friends I’ve ever had have now all but removed me from their lives? Unanswerable questions, really, but the common denominator in all of them is me. If it were just one person, maybe I would be able to chalk it up to them having an issue. But for so many to treat me the same way, so many times over so many years? The problem must be me, though I must admit I am utterly, completely clueless to what it might be.

The only think I know is there is always a slow burn of futility inside me; a smoldering sting that feels like no matter what happens, no matter what I do and no matter who is in my company, I will always feel like I am the last to be included and the first to be left out.


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