i.am.not.dead.........

Although, sometimes I wish I was.

Because maybe then I wouldn't have to feel anything anymore. No more pain, sadness, or loneliness. 

I am writing this because...........I don't really have any way else to get it out. Crying only makes my head hurt and my face feels hot. And we ran out of the good tissues that don't scrape my nose. 

So here I am.

Again.

Did you miss me? 


..................................................................................................



I missed me. Or who I thought I was becoming at least.

I thought I was happy, but my eyes were closed
I thought I had friends, but they're just coworkers.....I never see them outside of the restaurant
I thought I had family, but they have no idea who I am

Who the fuck am I?
I don't think I was ever able to answer that question directly. 

I walked passed one of the mirrors in my house. I stopped and really looked at myself. Then I cried. My house was dead silent. And I heard the sound a tear makes when it hits a tiled floor. You would think it would be lonely or depressing. It’s actually profoundly pathetic. And that's exactly how I feel.

I feel pathetic because I don't feel like I grew out of the "awkward stage" they say all adolescents go through before they blossom into beautiful and happy people.

Pathetic because with all the "friends" that I have, I can't think of a single soul that I can talk to and who would do absolutely nothing other than just listen. 

Pathetic because every time I think I’m ready to show someone my heart, I feel like they look at it in disgust and turn the other way.

And I don't blame them.

I’m disgusted with me too. 

I hate being weird
And alone
Ugly
Useless
Frightened
Unwanted
And unloved

You’d think that someone who feels this way would want to keep it hidden and pray that it was all just a bad dream.
Well I tried that. 
And so far, I still haven't been able to wake up.
So I’m stuck here in a nightmare. 

Stuck under this skin that no one loves. 
Stuck under the pressure of reaching for things I already know I will never reach.
Stuck under this cliché of this melodramatic blog entry so close to Valentine's Day.

And I can assure you; this can't be any more unrelated to the fucked up greeting card holiday. 

This is just me no giving a damn anymore and just letting all out. 

What’s the worst that can happen? 

People already judge me. I’ve heard damn near every rumor about me. I’ve already been hurt. Been betrayed. And exposed. 

So what's the difference now? 

Because I’m doing to myself?

Maybe I should give others the satisfaction of airing out my dirty laundry for me. 

But I don't think anyone can do it justice the way I can.

Because no one else knows exactly what goes on in my mind......................except for yours truly, of course.

So I’ll just jump right into it.

I don't feel like a proper human being. Plain and simple.

I 'm not tall, I don't feel smart, I can't say I have many friends, I have more contacts in my cell than other people with my number in their cell phones, I don't think I’m pretty, I haven't had sex in months, I’m fat, I’m not going very far in life........so in short, I’m a sorry excuse of an individual. 

I am not a person.

Just a sack of flesh, bones, and emotions. 

No soul.

No character. 

Which is why I’ll forever be weird, alone, ugly, useless, frightened, unwanted and, of course, unloved. 


Here's how I've worked it out in my dark and twisted mind.....

No one understands how I think and why I behave the way to do. 
(I don't get it either) Which is why no one would want to be around me
(and I don't blame them) so in turn I am unattractive (but that's its good to have me around for comparison....your 5 face just went to an 8) no one can grow or gain anything from me (other than the explanation I just gave above) so I am terrified of people seeing my true colors (so I wear a constant mask..........many, many masks) I turn into a shadow that one sees (you can see a shadow, but who truly acknowledges one and tries to understand it?)

Need I explain the last one?

I can't even look in the mirror and understand what I’m looking at.
have you ever really looked?
and analyzed the barely living creature in front of your eyes?
what do you see when you look at me?

Do you see my fears?

Can you tell that I’ve cried today?

Does the pain of daily life still linger in my eyes?

Have you ever noticed the scars on my arm?

Or my nervous twitch?

Ever heard my stutter?

Have you ever listened me mutter to myself when I think no one is around to hear me?

Or watched how sometimes, my mouth moves like it wants to say something other than what ends up coming out?

Because it does.


I think it wants to say “please, love me for me. and don’t ever leave me.”
But I won’t let it.
Because I’m scared.
I’m scared that you’ll see me for what and who I am and turn away.
I’m afraid that you’ll be afraid of me.
Because I’m afraid of me.
And it hate it.
I hate having to hide and pretend.
I hate all of my masks.
I hate living in my own skin, despite anything I have ever said or done.




I am,  


without a doubt, 


my worst enemy.




(originally created on 2/13/10)