I feel like I’ve been slipping in and out of my mind for my entire life. I’m not sure who I am so I let the day decide who I should be. It simplifies things, but it’s not very stable. I run away from every opportunity to stop and think about who I am and where I’m going. I don’t want to think about it. I just want to “be” without having to know myself. Mostly because I’m not sure “myself” is a real person. I’ve always felt out of synch with the rest of the universe. And maybe that’s okay.
But there has to be a middleground between normal, everyday person and out of your fucking mind. I think that’s precisely where I am. I can’t relate to the normals, yet I’m not sufficiently insane. Not enough to be locked up or lose touch with reality completely. My little touches of madness are what makes me unique, but what keeps me sane is what’s stifling my creativity. How do I cope with this?
Are there other inbetweeners out there? How do you deal with it(life)?
I always feel like the odd one out in my family. I’m different. I know. But as I sat at the easter table with my parents (I’m spending quarantine with them) and my father was once again taking over the conversation I found myself speaking freely even though I could tell he was disagreeing/disinterested. That’s unusual for me. I’m usually very self-conscious. So, when I can tell nobody is interested in what I have to say I tend to trail off into nothingness and focus on the wine, that is probably in my hand.
I enjoyed this because I really felt like it was ok that my dad didn’t care about what I wanted to talk about. Maybe this is a little bit of a cop out because I know the people I’m surrounded by will always love me regardless, so there never should have been any fear in the first place. But, it’s just how I’m wired. Since early childhood at least. A constant need for acceptance. If I didn’t fit in I’d just keep quiet, smile, nod and pretend I did.
But, maybe, I’m really evolving. Those tiny steps that seem unnoticeable are starting to show. So, overall, a good easter, despite the circumstances. Have a wonderful day!
I think I’m fooling myself. When things seem too good to be true, they usually are. I can’t allow myself to be happy. And that’s my own fault. Most things seem temporary Is it even possible to keep, anything real?
Maybe it’s because I won’t let go completely. I’ve lived at a distance and I’m afraid to take the first step. I’m comfortable. And I’m afraid. But it can’t go on like this.
I’m currently trying to find the balance. And I guess that’s a first step. I’ll have to leave some of it up to the universe, but I’ll guess I’ll do what I can until then. I’ve been putting this blog off for a while, but I swear it hasn’t been far from my mind. I appreciate all the comments I get and I really do hope to stop being so mopey. I’ve just been standing still for a while now and I don’t know where this world is going to take me yet. Or maybe the changes are so small that I’m not noticing them.
I don’t have a job right now and I don’t think I’ll have one until summer. Right now I’m trying to avoid killing time by putting it to good use instead. But it’s not as easy as it sounds.
I have 33 unpublished drafts in my folder. I’m hoping this isn’t going to be another one of them. I like to scribble but I’m unsure about posting. I don’t really know why. This was just supposed to be an outlet for me. But lately I’ve found myself having the same problem I usually have. I don’t like the way it flows/sounds/ comes across, so I abandon it and go do something else.
I’ve done this too with home-work and job applications. Eventually, if I ever wanted to get anything done I just had to accept what was and send something in because otherwise I would get nowhere. I always feel like I’m not good enough. Like I’m not living up to my fullest potential. Like I’m waisting my life. And I’m not sure that there is a way to remedy this.
Mostly, because I think I’m too hard on myself in my head. The work is fine but I just can’t hand it in. I’m scared. I’m worried. But, I can’t really pinpoint the reason.
I’ve been thinking about this a lot. When trying to pick a career and just in general wondering what to do with my day, I try to think logically about what kind of person I am. I think to myself “well, this is something I at least used to be interested in” and then I associate it with things that usually go with that.
But I’ve been doing a lot of soul-searching, lately. While trying to figure out what I truly want out of life, I’ve realised that a lot of the choices I’ve made have been half-arsed. Mainly because I don’t know what I really want. All the adventure’s I was looking for as a child now seem so hollow. And I’m not even sure what I really enjoy doing. I need to stop thinking about what I think I would like and start rediscovering what truly makes my spirit jump for joy.
I never realised it could be so hard? Who am I? What is my purpose besides just existing? I like wine. Though, I probably shouldn’t make that my hobby. I’ve always considered myself to be an “artsy” person and therefore I’ve forced myself to do “artsy” things. Photography, painting, ceramics, you name it. I’ve dabbled in most things. I’ve enjoyed some of it but I rarely feel inspired enough to keep at it. Or… the tools I’m given aren’t enough to help me express myself. How do I turn feelings I can’t understand into art?
So, what do I want to do for a living? If I go back to school I have to be sure it’s what I want. Otherwise, I might as well keep looking for jobs with the education I’ve already acquired.
I wrote this a few weeks ago and just never published it. I do that a lot.
I’m trying to climb back up again. I’ve been feeling better. These past few days have been rough. Once again I’m at a crossroads. I feel like I’m there a lot, but it’s mainly because I’ve yet to completely make up my mind. I’m still weighing pro’s and con’s with myself. It really now depends on what I hear back from a job I’ve applied for. I’ve decided that I’ll take it, if it’s offered to me. No if’s or but’s.
I’m actually a little excited about it. Though, I’m trying not to get ahead of myself. I wasn’t sure about it, because of where it was. But it’s the kind of job I want. So, I’m putting that aside. And, I’m trying to be more positive. I have to do something. It’s been emotionally exhausting. Trying to figure out life, I mean. But I think I’m closing in. I still don’t have answers, but I think I know which way to go.
What I need for myself is to stop attempting to predict the outcome. The good and the bad. I’ll either be disappointed or lose interest in the beginning. It’s really hard for me to live in the now. To me it’s a foreign land. I’m not sure it exists. I’m not sure i’m ever really there. My thoughts are too distracting.
It’s difficult being trapped by your own design. I can’t explain it in a way that would make sense to anyone else. I have to wait to be “allowed” to do something. I’m the boss of me. But not in a good way.
I’m in an abusive relationship with my mind. It keeps beating me up but I keep on forgiving. Sometimes it feels like it was all that was there for me during my darkest hours. The only one that understood. But it started controlling me. It isolated me from my peers. It felt like my life was no longer my own.
I rarely felt lonely when I was a teenager. I wanted to be alone. I had found something in myself that I couldn’t find in other people. The people I wanted to be around were pre-selected. I had gronw accustomed to them. But even they could be too much sometimes. I longed to be alone with my abusive lover. I didn’t feel out of place. I didn’t feel awkward. But I felt trapped. Whenever anything peeked my intersted outside of these walls, I was forced back in.
Sometimes, I did want to escape the mundane. There was no room for that. I tried to create room by conjuring up new rules. It worked at times. But there still had to be rules. And by making them more adjustable, I think I actually made life harder for myself. This meant I didn’t have to break the rules even when life forced me to stray from my routines. Everything was adaptable. So there was never any escape.
I wrote this a couple of days ago and never published it. It’s all very rudamentary so I’m sorry if it doesn’t flow together all that well. My mind was scattered. Anyway, thanks for reading.
Sometimes I’m afraid that all my dreams have died. A bitter way of starting; I know. What I mean is that I’m not sure that I want, what I once wanted. And that has made me more confused than ever. When I was a child I wanted the world. Now, I feel like I want to stay in the little town, that I had always, wanted to escape. Always. I want a little house and to feel comfortable and safe.
It was the furthest thing from what I wanted when I was younger. And I’m not sure that my subconscious wants this just because it’s easy. That the real me still aches for change. Or, maybe my wants really have changed and I don’t want to throw away what I asked for, for so many years? I can’t accept that I don’t want what I almost, always, wished for.
Could it also be that what I really want is somewhere in the middle? Perhaps I need to travel first and then come home and settle down with memories and souvenirs scattered across the walls. But every time I think about it, I want to skip the first part, and jump right to the after. I want the first part to happen, but I’m looking forward to the end. I go to work, because I like the feeling of coming home.
I can’t believe that I’m dwelling so much on the journey, that I’m not sure it will ever take place. But I feel like I’m stuck between two opposites. There’s not much room for compromise.
I’m still not sure what I’m doing. I wish I had wine, right now. But it’s fine. I’m trying to figure out where I go from here. I’ve applied for a job in Greece, and now, when it’s possible I might get it, I’m not sure I want it. I also applied for another job here, in my home country. It’s far away from my hometown, and my loved ones, but compared to Greece it doesn’t seem that far. Strangely enough, I think it was the thought of realising I might’ve to relocate, that actually pushed me to apply for another job; so at least I’ll have options.
Come to think of it, I probably wouldn’t have applied for that other job if I really hadn’t felt like I needed more options. I’m currently working part-time so full-time employment is what I’m currently after. But I’m afraid. Not so much of failure, I’m afraid I’ll get everything I’ve ever asked for and I’ll still feel incomplete. If I knew everything would be great once I’ve succeeded then I wouldn’t care so much about what hardships the journey might throw at me.
What do I have to lose, though? I feel like I’ve already made up my mind. I’m going to leave comfort and security for the pusuit of something. Because I feel it’s… a more honourable pursuit I guess. At least a less depressing one.