12/4/08

Sometimes this feeling just comes over me.  It’s like I’m in the wrong place.  Or time.  It’s like my setting is wrong, like I was copied and pasted into the wrong novel.  And all the other characters continue to do whatever they would normally do as if I wasn’t there, because I really have no bearing on the plot at all. 

It’s very lonely.

I have no close friends.  I have no one with whom I can share everything.  For the most part, this doesn’t bother me.  The people I have met are trivial and disappointing.  Relationships are an unnecessary waste of time and effort, especially considering what I get out of them.  And I don’t mean this to be rude or insulting, although I’m sure it comes across that way.  It is simple fact, though.  To me, relationships are meaningless.

But at the same time, it is DEEPLY troubling.  There are few universals when it comes to humans.  That is to say, there are few traits that are found in ALL human populations.  One of the ones that is commonly cited is the need for social interactions.  It is said that humans are social creatures, and that we are supposed to thrive in communities.  But when you don’t…I know it’s ridiculous but I feel un-human.   And no matter how hard I try to tell myself that rising above a need for relationships is a step forward, I can’t help but feel defective.

But then, isn’t that the theme of my life?

Defective means “imperfect in form or function, faulty” and isn’t that true?  I am imperfect in form, certainly.  I have seen to that myself.  And function?  Well, now, that depends on what function I am to perform. 

Self-mutilation changed me, for the BETTER.  Before, I was a coward.  I let them hurt me, I gave up, I was a quitter.  But I learned that I am the only person who can hurt myself.  And I gained the courage and fortitude to see any task through to the end.  I am strong and driven, and I will always hold my head up high.

But I am cold.  And I am hardened.  And I am an addict.  What became my greatest strength is also my greatest weakness.  The same blade that has built me up will shatter me if I ever let my guard down.  The same blade that allows me to hold in my hurt and anger and suffering is the drug I run to for relief.  I am an addict, and I hate that I let something like this rule my life, even if it has made me into the person I always wanted to be.

This is why it’s so hard to get better.