I Don’t Know What’s Wrong With Me

I don’t know what’s wrong with me.  I feel something off with me, but I don;t know how to describe what it is.  I’m feeling desolate, alone, depressed . . .  And by all standards, I probably shouldn’t.  I mean, nothing happened to set this off.  My sleeping schedule’s completely outta whack, and I’ve gotta get it back on track as soon as I can, but even so, that’s nothing to spazz about.  My sleeping schedule has always been weird.

I mean, last night at work, I was honestly considering becoming a hermit later in life.  Finding some remote cabin in the woods and just living there.

::Sighs::  I heard Breakaway far too many times on the radio in the past few days.  They changed radio stations, so I’ve heard Truly, Madly, Deeply, All You Wanted, Goodbye To You, Breakaway, that song that has “Look for the girl with the broken smile,” as a line in the lyrics, and I heard Absolutely (the story of a girl) last night.

Oh, that was another “great” thing.  I overslept, and was half an hour late for work yesterday.  Bleh . . .  Like I said, majorly out o whack with the whole sleeping thing.

On the upside, that wall unit that I bought?  It’s assembled, and in my room.  I’ve already started putting stuff on it, including my new TV and DVD player.  I’m probably gonna get a VCR at some later point, just so I’ll be able to bring tapes up and watch them.  Plus, until I get DVD’s of some of my favorite movies, like Young Sherlock Holmes, I won’t be able to watch them without said VCR.  I’d still like to be able to watch them up in my room, so yeah, VCR is useful.  Plus, the wall unit has space for DVD’s, so that’s really nice.

See, I don’t know if I mentioned it in here before, but I found out last week that my grandma sent my family our Christmas money.  She usally gives my mom a check, and we divide it three ways.  Well, this year, she sent us fifteen hundred dollars!!!!  My share, yes, was five hundred.  So, instead of having to wait for my paychecks to buy the wall unit and TV and DVD player, I bought them all at once last week.  Lemme tell you, though, it was Hell getting that desk out of my room.  I think Mike and I would have been okay alone, but of course, my parents had to horn in on the whole thing, making their “intelligent” suggestions, and all that, and my dad, of course, ultimately talking about how stupid the idea was, and how we’d have to “do this,” or it “wouldn’t get done,” and all that BS.  I was ignoring them to begin with, but of course, Mike had to try and explain things, and whatnot.  It’s called just ignoring them, because it’s not like they’re going to take anything that we say as anything with any value anyway!

But in the end, we did get the desk downstairs, and it’s going to go in the dining room for my parents to use to put their TV and videotapes/DVD’s on.

::Sighs::  One, I can’t get out of my head, and the other is just about the most unattainable, frustrating person I’ve ever met.  Why can’t I have a fairy tale?  I’m stupid enough to believe it still exists.  But is it supidity, if there are still people in the world who can find true love?  Who do have fiftieth wedding anniversaries, and the like?  But then, are those people truly in love, or does religion, or their own deep-seated sense of values prevent divorce?  Or perhaps just the thought that they’d be striking out on their own, and they’ve been together too long to know how to do that?

Everyone does have a dark side.  Are we actually able to fight it, or does it eventually consume us?  Does it have to consume us?  Are we already in it’s clutches?  Some are.  But do we even see that, when they put on such a good front?  We all put on fronts, whether we think so or not.  No one is completely honest, because in this society, we’re grown up, taught that it’s a bad thing.  Taught that people’s feelings will be hurt.  Taught that “little white lies don’t count.”

People are fools.  Little white lies count.  Because if you’re able to tell a little white lie, you can tell a bigger lie.  And if someone can lie, they can lie.  And who knows if they’ll be caught.

Why are people able to show such different sides of themself to others?  I mean, I understand multiple facets of one’s personality, but I don’t mean that.  I mean why is one person able to have such a high opinion of someone else, and someone else think so poorly of them?  The person with the high opinion obviously doesn’t see what the other person does, but does that mean their opinion is invalid?  Does it mean they haven’t seen the “real” person?  Or does it mean that the one who thinks poorly of the person is the one who saw the “real” them?

I feel I’m losing my grip on who I am.  I thought I knew.  I think I did know.  But that knowledge is escaping my grasp, because what I never knew was if anybody knew the real me.  I don’t think anyone does, and I want someone to.  I want to have people.  I don’t want to lose anyone else.  Or at least I want to know when I have lost them . . .

My family doesn’t know me.  They know a few choices habits, or favorites of mine, but that’s about it.  They have no idea what goes on in my head, or my heart.  My mom still shuts me up from singing for the damned Soap Opera network!!!

None of my friends know me.  Or in some cases, “friends.”  I don’t know.  I don’t know where to turn when I feel like I’m backed into a corner.  The only place I can turn, and there never seems to be an alternative to this, is inward.  And my mind and heart are very scary places sometimes.  Full of insecurities run rampant, cobwebs of lost memories I don’t want to let go of, loves that I can’t let go of yet, posessions still held dear, wonderings that I can’t shake, imaginary scenarios that I know will never come true, but I can’t help hoping for.

I want to break free of those things, but they consume me at night.  In a dream I had last night, that seemed oddly familiar to me, so perhaps I’ve had it before, I was sitting in a circle of girls, and the one who was leading the game we were playing said, “You will always befriend your enemy in this game.”  It wasn’t a rule.  It was just something that always happened.  Friendships were torn apart over this game.  Ones who had been best friends for years played this game on the same team, and in the end, they were enemies.  And on the same token, ones who had been enemies were on the same team, and they became friends, because, “You shall be allied with your enemies.”

::Sighs::  Well, I’d say this counts as my emotional upchuck for the day . . .