I need to apologize for all of the absurdity. Not really on here, and not that anyone in particular usually reads this, BUT, I've been pretty ridiculous and want people to know that, maybe it isn't really warranted but I think I'm coming to terms with it.
I should be writing essays for a scholarship program that I'm applying to, but to be honest, I don't feel much like talking about why I'm applying for the program, or addressing the talents that God has given me as an individual or what book I've read that has helped my faith to get better. I don't want to talk about an experience that challenged my faith, because it will probably make me cry trying to write it. I don't really want to write about how I would change the University of Dayton, or talk about why I love learning. But it's one of those things that I don't get much of a choice about. I don't get to tell them that I don't want to write these essays, unless of course I just don't want to apply for the program.
Ironically, I really really want to be accepted to this program. It's a way to deepen my faith and incorporate it into my academic life and meet other people who are as passionate as I am about religion and trying to build it into their life. BUT, I don't feel much like doing anything, because right now, I don't feel much like being anyone. I get tired of always trying to be a certain way. Even if it's just me being me, no "trying" necessary, just myself. It's still a challenge at times. Why is it all about acceptance of personalities and people approving of what we say and do, and basically, just who we choose to be? Like, WHATTHEHECK.
This is never what life was supposed to be about, and I'm not sure when it became this way.
I think sometimes I try too hard. And then when I reach a point where people will basically accept me no matter what I do, I go crazy. I rant about everything that goes on in my head, and I text them at all hours of the night and have emotional breakdowns (weekly, if necessary). I don't know how not to fully devote myself to people. I know that a lot of times, this can be a good thing. But other times, it's like a current that drags me under. And I'm left gasping for breath when it throws me back out, or when I struggle my way back to the top. Sometimes, people are left to resuscitate me. Not frequently, but it's happened. Shaking and crying in someone's arms, or over the phone, or to the point where nothing matters anymore. People pick me up.
But it comes back to..would they pick me up if I hadn't put in the effort in the first place? I give a lot of myself, but would people still be there for me if I hadn't initiated it? Would everything still turn out the way it did if I didn't try so hard?
I know it shouldn't really matter because this is who I am and being me is complicated but worthwhile and my life is excessively beautiful and wonderful and all of that jazz, but, there's always the "but." Every good thing where I say "oh something is actually really [insert wonderfulness]..." is typically followed by a "but" and then something negative.
I love positivity, but for being positive, I thoroughly enjoy negativism.
Also, I've come to the realization I'm an emotional masochist. Oddly enough, my friends already knew that. Like, when one of them suggested the reason that I was doing something was "because I was a masochist" I promptly looked up the particular definition of masochism and realized that I might in fact be one. I expressed this to one of my friends and she responded "well, yes, you definitely are an emotional masochist, but it's okay."
I listen to sad songs on repeat, I text myself into situations that are extremely hard to get out of and draw me in emotionally, I let myself miss people a little too much, I tend to be negative on myself even when I know better (I will preface statements with "I know this is totally ridiculous but I'm going to say it anyways" or, "I know this will make you want to slap me.." or "Well, this might not be entirely true but it's how I feel" kind of statements). I couldn't tell you why I do these things. Only that I've done them for about as long as I can remember. Does this mean something is wrong with me? Like maybe I really do actually have a legitimate problem.
I just overflow.
This is some of the overflow, in case you didn't guess. I just astound myself, because even though I feel as if I am constantly overflowing, overflowing with everything I want to give to other people, I leave almost nothing with myself.
I apologized for the absurdity at the beginning, but frankly, that was a dumb thing to do. Because this blog is full of what I am referring to as "the absurdity" and it is full of me. It is full of everything that I don't know if I can say. It's full of everything that bypasses my mouth and flows out of my fingers when I become so tired and tense; these things have filled me and they need somewhere to be poured.
Why am I even apologizing? The only people who probably read this will be the ones who I ask to read this, because inevitably, I will need affirmation. I can't write this just for it to be written. It's not so much that I need someone to affirm me that it's good or that I exist, but I like to be affirmed that maybe what I'm saying isn't crazy.
And even if it is crazy, I want them to know what I'm feeling, how I'm feeling it, and maybe understand me just that much better.
I honestly don't remember what my point was.
You know what's hard? The fact that people are always shared. I mean, okay, start over. I'm not a greedy person. I'm not a slave-driver either, and don't really believe a person should be owned or unshared or anything. Because, usually, I think as soon as I meet someone awesome who tops my friends' chart, I want to share them with everyone. However, sometimes, it'd be nice if we could just steal people out of life and leave our lives with that person and get to know them, and I mean, really get to know them. It would be so utterly fantastic, because I love people. If you've read my blog at all, or even if you know me at all, you probably understand how passionate I am about people. It's almost a little bit of a disease, but what the heck, I am a little bit diseased, and I think I might like it, which I imagine is a little part of the disease, itself.
Well, all of that was a little bit ranty and a little bit crazy, and a little bit pessimistic and maybe it didn't make any sense. I'm not quite ready to read it yet.
This is usually the point where I go into my headspace and take all of the terribly ranted things that I said and make sense of them. This is the point where I usually would bring all of my craziness back together, give explanation for all of my emotions, and solve all of my own problems that have been hanging over my head. This is where I would attribute something to my brilliant best friend (who knows more about me than anyone ever has, and I'm not sure if it's because she listens to more of all of this than anyone else, or if she actually has taken the time) and then discuss the thing she stated to me and rip it apart and analyze it until everyone including myself could understand it. This is usually where I would write some dramatic ending and make everyone that reads this think that this blog post was not a total waste of space and thoughts produced by me. This is the point where many good things would potentially occur.
But I'm dry. I don't have the same headspace right now, and I don't have anything with which to make sense of all of that blog. I don't have any excuses to explain my emotions. I don't have any dramatic ending or convincing for why this isn't a colossal waste of space and time.
But I do have this. I have words spoken by my best friend. I have some of those, but I don't want to rip them apart.
Me: You always have so much faith in me.
Her: Not hard to.
I want that. I want to have faith in myself the way other people can.
I want to be good enough for me, and I know that's up to me.
Sorry for all of this.
"Live, and let live."
No comments:
Post a Comment