I am dying from loneliness.
that sounds so dramatic, doesnt it? "I'm dying from loneliness."
but it's true, though.
"oh, that (my name), she's so over-dramatic. she's just exaggerating! she should just grow up and deal! we're ALL alone? who does she thinks she is, special? above us? we can't hold her hand, we can't baby her. grow up (my name)! grow up and get over it!"
this is what i believe people are saying about me.
i believe people hear me, read my stuff, and think i exaggerate, think i'm being dramatic to gain attention, to gain sympathy, to manipulate.
i wish. i wish i was just writing and speaking like this out of fun, for fun.
there is nothing fun about self-hatred.
there is not a lot of fun in my life. the fun that is there, i created.
i feel so alone.
i feel like the little toddler lost in the department store.
i feel like i have no one, no one to support me, no one i can go to to ask questions, no one to share my laughter with.
i don't know how i thought this life was going to go, but i'd hoped for....
hmmm. what am i hoping for? what am i expecting? i feel disappointed, it's true. and disappointment usually signals an expectation was shattered.
okay. an examination of my life expectations.
i thought parents were supposed to be supportive.
my daddy raped me. he never spoke to me. he made me bleed. he made me cry. he smelled bad; he smelled of whiskey. he did not buy me food. he did not buy me clothes. he did not buy me a bed. he did not buy me a place to go to that would protect me from the rain and cold. he did not buy me education. he couldn't even buy me the candy bar i wanted.
my mommy used me. she used me so she could feel good. it did not matter that she made me cry. it did not matter that i was not hungry; i had to eat it because she needed me to. it did not matter that i did not want the blue dress; i wore it anyway because she needed me to. i did not matter. my wishes, my needs, did not matter.
at school, i was ignored. the teachers looked right through, right past me. i knew i was invisible, because no one saw me.
i can feel the dark gas of depression settle through my bones.
my face is frozen in a forever downward expression.
i am cold, but it does not matter.
i am wearing yesterday's clothes, and it does not matter.
my hair is uncombed, unkempt, and i don't care.
i sit in silence and stare at God.
we look each other in the eye, unmoving.
i want to be still. i want to sit still.
i know we are all alone.
i know loneliness is the state of humanity.
but why does this rather normal feeling of loneliness do such dramatic things to my mind and body? i mean, if loneliness is so average, so run-of-the-mill, why does my loneliness make me want to kill myself, make me want to kill other people, make me want to starve myself to death, make me want to sit silent and unmoving and not care if i shit or pee my pants, make me want to walk barefoot and naked outside as Jesus had to, make me want to drill nails into my hands and feet as Jesus had done to him, make me want to sit outside with no coat on and pray aloud to God, make me want to set myself on fire, make me want to bleed for Christ, make me want to lay on my bed in the fetal position hugging my baby picture and crying and rocking back and forth?
if my loneliness is so normal, why can't i hold a "normal" job?
why can't i go to school and get a degree like "normal" people?
why do i end up in mental institutions, so not normal.
if "there's nothing wrong with me," as so many people delight in informing me, then why the hell is my life full of unusual things?
im smart as a whip, but couldn't finish school.
im a very kind, compassionate person, but i don't have any friends.
im a hard worker, conscientious, been told by bosses that they wished everyone was like me, but i am not working, and can't work.
SOMETHING IS DEFINITELY WRONG WITH THIS PICTURE.
if there's nothing wrong, then why is everything all wrong?