identity crisis-induced anti-socialness

I’m approaching another one of those points in life where it’s hard for me to express everything I need to express in this diary. I’ll eventually get past this block, look past it, ignore past it, and I’ll write every emotion once again. Meanwhile I’m talking to my sister, talking to Gretchen, talking to Sloan, screaming out of my soul in the midst of an identity crisis. I feel very anti-social, and yet I don’t care. I feel very jealous, and yet I don’t care. It’s that I care, but I care to the point where I just don’t care anymore. I feel like there’s no point to hanging out with people I’m just frankly not going to miss. It’s not that I don’t enjoy their company – it’s not that I don’t have fun hanging out around these people – I just don’t miss them. They don’t even know me. I don’t even know them. I wouldn’t feel comfortable crying in front of them. I wouldn’t feel comfortable just saying – hey here’s my life I’m putting it out there on the table for you. And yet isn’t that what I do here every day? Isn’t that what I’ve been doing for 2 1/2 years? My life is right here – my thoughts are right here – my tears are right here. But not all of them. Oh no, not all of them. At first yes. And then I sent out the first link to the first friend, and it just grew. It simply grew.

Good bad? Both, of course both. Very very good, very very bad. It makes me edit, but it also makes me honest. But not to the point where I don’t edit out to the point of truthlessness.

Two people I will miss the most as I go off to college: Gretchen, Kristen. Did I realize this 3 months ago? No, not at all. Lord, every 3 months – every 3 months I look back and say wow who was I and how was it that I was that stupid. (For my regulars this is a re-occuring theme, no?)

This is how lost I am: I can’t even choose a long-term screen name because I don’t know what I like. My old screen name – screw the anonymity – jazzfreak88. I’m not a jazzfreak. There’s nothing jazz about me – I don’t really even listen to jazz. It had to go – it had to change – I had it for over two years, but it wasn’t me. It never had been. So I changed. Of course there had been other names I never used, but it was my first major change. I became traeumerin88 – simply dreamergrrl translated to german with an 88 tacked on. I’ve had complaints. People can’t pronounce it, they think it centers around my name, they butcher it. No, it’s not me… it’s just still not me. So I bounced dreamergrrl88 off Matt as an option. You know what he said? “That’s so 14 years old.” You know what? HE’S RIGHT! My identity is 14 years old, and I made it when I was 16. Alright, so that really broke me down – I got nothin left. What else have I realized – oh, right, I don’t know what I like. People ask you what you like to do – what do you say? Well if you’re me, you stutter, and think to yourself – God, I don’t know. What do I do with myself all day? Seriously. I have no clue. I go online a lot. I like to read, but I haven’t done much of that lately. I like to write, obviously, but it’s just about my life. I play piano – I practice a lot, but it’s not my identity.

Today my sister said, “So you’re searching for a pastime.” No, I said that was ridiculous. I don’t even have a major right now. Screw the pastime – I’m still searching for a TIME.

Nebeneinanderstellung. That’s the only fricken german word that even comes to mind anymore. So how can I be traeumerin88?

Then I wonder if I’m ready for this entire college thing. I know I’ll be fine – I know I’m ready – but I don’t feel collegiate sometimes. I don’t feel like I belong in high school either. I’m in limbo. We all are. We’re not really kids anymore, but we’re not really adults right now, but we don’t quite belong in college yet… we’re just in existance right now. About to start crossing that perverbial bridge. You would think my reaction to all of this would be normal, but very few seem to be reacting the same way. Man people are going out every day, and I did when I was alone for awhile – my sister marvels at how much I go out – I tell her I’m anti-social compared to everyone else. She’s anti-social compared to me. We’re quite a pair. We’re sisters, and we’re so different, and we’re so the same.

Wait, back it up – basically, I have issues. How many times do I have to become best friends with people and then wake up to discover that I’ve been around them so much that I just need change? CHANGE. I’VE FREAKING CHANGED. AGAIN. AND YEAH, IT HAPPENED THE FIRST TIME EVEN WHEN I DENIED IT. I GIVE UP. YOU CAUGHT ME. I’M DIFFERENT.

Give up, we all have.

I’m an elitist, and so is everyone else. I love to brag – sometimes I think others love to brag more. Screaming.

-screaming-

Inside.