I was talking to a friend of mine last night and she was telling me about how private I am and how I don’t let anyone in or tell them how I’m feeling and that I’m this strong ice princess type person who shuts everyone out. She said it in a nice way though. She would probably be surprised that I write about the full extent of my basket case emotional hysteria online for all to see. She said I don’t trust anyone and that I need to let people in and lean on them and why did I think I found it so hard to do?
I don’t know. It could just be that I moved every year when I was growing up so I never got into the habit of having good friends I could confide in. Or it could be that I always had to depend on myself and be strong and push through no matter what (with no support from, for instance, parents), and so that’s just what I know to do.
I find, actually, that when I go too long without writing here, I’m a little more angsty in general. I suppose I do need to let out my insecurities, fears, and general emotional imbalance somewhere. I mostly do just write everything I’m feeling here, and I sometimes forget that there are indeed people who know me who read this. I did write something the other day that I only published privately. It was pretty depressing and included this chipper moment:
And I am slowly dismantling my life, brick by brick, piece by piece and I can see it and I can’t stop myself. And I am drowning. [random angst cut] I have nothing to [random whiny rambling cut] build with the broken shards of my life, so I carry them in my hands, no place to put them, and they pierce my skin and weight me down, but I can’t rest because I have no where to stop.
So I was telling my friend last night, not about writing that, but about how I seem to come to this place where I tear apart everything in my life and start over and build my life back up again from nothing. And why is that? And is that self-destructive? Or is it the natural cycle of life? Am I moving on to better things in my life or just sabotaging myself?
I don’t know. I know that I am in a better place than when I wrote that entry mostly because I have at least some glimpse of stable ground. I was talking to another friend last week about uncertainty. And some uncertainty is manageable, but it’s harder everything in your life in uncertain. And I feel like I’m finally taking those broken pieces of my life and building towards something. Something entirely different than before. And who’s to say if it’s better or worse. I don’t know yet. I may never know. And I’ll never be certain about everything. I do know that.
I do mostly lean on myself. And I do find it very difficult to rely anyone else. And I don’t know that I’ll ever fundamentally change that. Although I know that’s why I sometimes feel so alone that it feels like there’s no one in the entire universe other than me. And the sound of my own breathing echoes through the endless space. Am I hell-bent on continually destroying my life? Maybe. All I know is that I’m living the only way I know how. Taking things day by day. And I can’t do anything other than that. And I have to at least trust myself. So, I’ll keep going, and building, and see where life takes me.