Lately I have been in a state of melancholy that is usually just reserved for my birthday and the Christmas holidays, the latter of which did not actually happen last month much to my surprise. I do not even know where to begin with how I am actually feeling... I know this may sound impossible but I am being quieter more than I normally am to the point where there are times when I am not even sure if I have a voice anymore. Well besides the one in my head. I have been very lethargic, I am always tired but unable to sleep or get any adequate rest. The last time I actually got a good night's sleep was on New Years when I ended up sleeping on a couch, a very comfortable couch. Then a couple days ago an uneasy truth about myself came to light while having a conversation with somebody on skype. It was brought up in jest about how I do not care and even though I was joking when I replied with that I was at least trying to care about myself, it rang true. I do not care about myself or my well being. The proof in that can be seen by the fact that despite the fact that my arm is messed up I went ahead and played volleyball not just once this past week, but three times. At least I am not a cutter right? The concept does follow the same principles. Feeling the pain at least reminds me that I am infact still alive, it is the only thing I seem to be able to feel. My heart is cold and devoid of any and all emotion, with the exception of lonesomeness that encompasses my existence on this earth. I have been alone either physically or emotionally since I was about two years old, yeah that is a long time and some time between then and now I accepted the fact that I was going to end up alone. It just seems to my place in the world. Let us be honest about this though, I do not talk a whole lot on my good days let alone my more depressing days and that just makes me the type of person that people do not want to be around socially. Over the course of my life time it has been more often then not that the only reason why people wanted anything to do with me was if they needed me for something. C'est la vie.
I cannot blame anyone for this more than myself. If only I would talk more, or at least that is what people tell me I should do. Lets break down why I do not always say a whole lot:
The number one reason is that in a general sense I hate people and do not trust anyone. That does not mean that I hate people specifically, but only in a general manner because throughout my life people have been nothing but unreliable, self-serving, judgementalists. I am the guy who has always been bullied and picked on, or just completely ignored and then if I take the time to actually open up to people sooner or later I end up feeling like I got tossed aside like a piece of garbage.
Now this next reason has the potential to make me sound like a pretentious snob but nonetheless here it is, I usually have no interest in what other people are talking about. By that I mean the boring and mundane dribble that passes for day to day chit chat. I was told last year a couple of days before Valentines Day that I am too much of a deep thinker, which I was also told is also not an attractive quality. Regardless that is what I am.
I cannot blame anyone for this more than myself. If only I would talk more, or at least that is what people tell me I should do. Lets break down why I do not always say a whole lot:
The number one reason is that in a general sense I hate people and do not trust anyone. That does not mean that I hate people specifically, but only in a general manner because throughout my life people have been nothing but unreliable, self-serving, judgementalists. I am the guy who has always been bullied and picked on, or just completely ignored and then if I take the time to actually open up to people sooner or later I end up feeling like I got tossed aside like a piece of garbage.
Now this next reason has the potential to make me sound like a pretentious snob but nonetheless here it is, I usually have no interest in what other people are talking about. By that I mean the boring and mundane dribble that passes for day to day chit chat. I was told last year a couple of days before Valentines Day that I am too much of a deep thinker, which I was also told is also not an attractive quality. Regardless that is what I am.
We are taught that we should always be ourselves but being myself brings me nothing but misery, sadness and loneliness. The question I ask is should I become someone else so that I can escape this bleak existence?
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