Am I Reflecting Or Am I Just Moping?

Is it normal to feel so invisible to those that you thought were closest to you? Despite emails and messages, I haven't heard from my two closest friends for nearly two months now. And they are the two months that I really could have done with having them around.

I've just spent three years working my hardest at university for a lower second class degree and have come out of it dosed up to the eye balls on anti-depressants, no job, seemingly no close friends and struggling to make ends meet. I guess that is what the real world is. What a big slap in the face.

I guess the only thing that is really keeping me going at the moment is my kitten Melody. I am doing a great job at convincing myself that she is all the company I need but there are times like today that I know I need something more.

I can't say that I'm not enjoying living on my own, I am loving it. I just wish that I was closer to my friends. Even though I am close to my brother and sister, and I am looking after my little bro during the holidays, but them being so close has done nothing to even close the empty space inside my heart.

A stupid part of me thinks that this hole inside me will be closed by having a boy friend, but I know it isn't true. I've spent so many years telling myself that I don't need anyone and I don't need anyone to approve of what I am doing, but I do. I strive for my dad's approval, and I have pushed myself to do my best so that he would be proud of me. Part of me deep down knows that he is proud of me regardless, as long as I try my best, but the more dominant part of my brain has spent the years since high school convincing myself that I will never be good enough.

I still wonder what I have ever done to have been dealt such a depressing hand in life. But I know the depression is some chemical imbalance in my brain and a lot of people have it worse off that me. I just can't seem to get myself out of this funk that I have been stuck in for the past ten years or so. For the first time in six months I am actually clinging to my medication. I need it. I dread to think what I would be right like now without them.

AFI This Time Imperfect [I Heard A Voice]

This is my mental state trying to fix itself. If anyone actually reads this, yes I am breaking down. I have spent the past hour crying and trying to convince my sister I'm not suicidal. I'm not. Honest. I promised some good friends years ago that I wouldn't do anything stupid, and I haven't since. That's not to say I don't want to though.

I have never been so repulsed by my own reflection. I honeslty hate my appearance to the extent that I have used two of my jackets to cover my mirror. I haven't been able to cover it completely, but enough that I don't have to see my fat form when I'm sat at my computer trying to work.

It's hard to think that I'm going to graduate soon. Well that's if I manage to finish all my work. And I have nothing to show for it. All this work, stres, and all I will have at the end of it is a piece of paper. What a waste of time and money.

In a way it is fine to say I have nothing to show for the past three years, but I have nothing to show for the 21 years I have been alive. I always seem to be second best to the mother I try my best to please, I have never been in a serious relationship, all my 'friends' are in different time zones and I simply have no life. No life what so ever.

Most of these 'friends' hardly talk to me. They show no concern for my problems or try to help. I wonder why I really bother. But I guess trying to make myself believe that they are really good friends is helping me think that I have something to believe in, something to stick around for.

I know some people may read this and think that I am ungreatful for what I have, but I'm not. I know people have it worse. A lot worse.

Dear God

I think I may be suffering from some self inflicted curse. I start off by pushing everyone away, letting few people in. But there is always one exception. And then I fall hard. It always seems to be with the wrong people as well for a number of reasons. The two most popular are distance and the small fact that the other person is already in a relationship.

I just... I don't want to be on my own any more.

I know I have told myself time and time again that I'm not mentally okay to be with someone. Though part of me is now thinking that it is complete and utter bull shit.

There is a story I have read countless times called 'Definitions'. I am normally great at submerging myself into the alternative reality storys provide, but this one, it felt more real to me than any other story I have read before.

There is this one extract that I'm going to post here, just because it is the perfect way to show anyone how I am feeling, how I have felt, and how I believe I will continue to feel.

'There's a lot of things that are instilled in us from birth, but there's one that will always be man's downfall. The idea that there is one person who can complete you. It's all over the TV, the silver screen, books, in every day conversation. Your soul mate, or whatever word is popular for it this week. The point being, it is pretty much a given that this is the only goal you MUST achieve before you die, or otherwise you've failed. Your life, the most precious gift of all, according to some, has been a waste if one person at least hasn't been in love with you.

I've been told before, that I was loved, but every time was a lie, for they all left. And platonic love cannot replace the romantic kind, as much as we would like for it to sometimes. The truth is that I've never been loved. Completely. Fully. With abandon, with someone's entirety.

I've failed at the universe's most important task.

I know that love does not make one whole. It certainly didn't make me whole, but I tried. I'll always be flawed; I know that. But I loved anyway. Freely. Happily. Only to have it thrown back in my face. My most precious gift, some would say, and it was always returned, and never gift-wrapped. Always tattered. Always a mess.

I used to wonder why. Why was my love not important enough? Why was my love discarded so easily? And then it hit me. My love is just like I am; mundane. Ordinary. Nothing special, most certainly not a precious gift.

I wish it weren't so. More than anything, I wish I could be one of those people who are easy to fall in love with. But I'm not. Of course I'm not; how can I be that way when I'm not even worthy enough to see?

I'm addicted to the feeling of a new relationship. It's not something I actively pursue, but once it's there, there's nothing I enjoy more. I love the moment of getting to know someone. The rush I feel the first time you hold hands. Every time I hold someone's hand for the first time, I feel like I'm in middle school, relishing in this new and unfamiliar feeling of being desirable. Of someone wanting to be close to you. I love first kisses; the anticipation, the sweet relief, the neverending possibility of what the kiss was going to lead to you next. I love soft touches, adoring gazes, first compliments. There's nothing quite like it.

I miss it, horribly. I've been alone for a while now; I don't know if it's by choice yet or not. But I do miss it. Every day I long for a hug, to feel engulfed, to be held like I'm precious. Every day I long for a lingering gaze, a kind word, something...anything...that reminds me that I'm special to someone. I miss it in ways I can never express.

I miss the feel of hands on me. I miss the way someone holds you like you're going to float away if they let you go. I miss the feel of eyelashes blinking against my skin, miss the hunger in their eyes when they look at you, miss the way someone can breathe their secrets into your skin until you can feel them vibrating in your heart.

I miss being special, being adored so much, that if any of my exes walked back into my life, asking me to take them back, I would. It wouldn't matter to me how much they had hurt me, how broken I had felt when they left. I would take them back, because I want to be loved. I want to be adored. I would forgive their every slight, every mistake, every callous word and action, if it meant I didn't have to go to bed alone at night.

I might be meant to be alone, but I don't want to be. I find myself sometimes brushing my own hands against my skin, just to feel a touch. But touches are meaningless when there's no feeling, no love, behind it. So I lay in bed, clutching my blankets, clutching my pillow, clutching anything I can so I don't feel so alone. They're inanimate objects, but it's all I have. Really, I'm just...lonely.

I miss sex, I suppose, but I really miss love the most. The security, the comfort of knowing someone is there, someone is taking their time with you...no one takes time with me anymore. I don't know what the hell I'm trying to say. It's just so cold inside of me, and I'd give anything right now to be warm.'

There is another few sentences in the story that have stuck with me since the first time I read it.

'I am the name that dies on everyone's lips when someone brighter, more beautiful walks in the room. Just a flash of recognition, the faintest impression made like footprints in the sand. Easily washed away when a more powerful force washes ashore.'

I wish I could see my life changing how this characters does in the story. The character grows so much, starts to fight back when people try to put him down, and at the end, he finds love. I just wish I could find it, but apparently I am repulsive enough for people to not want to know, but not repulsive enough to not have friends.

I just wish life were simple.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mzX0rhF8buo

Sometimes I Just Want To Give Up

I wish people didn't have such high expectations of me. I know I have probably not done myself any favors by doing well in school, but there's nothing I can do about that now.

I know my family have always put pressure on me to do well, and I foolishly believed them when they said it didn't matter if I fail. I wish I could still believe that.

Yesterday I was talking to my dad about how little motivation I have for university, and if I hadn't wasted so much money on it, I would quit. In responce he told me not to quit and that if I didn't get the same degree as my sister he would be dissapointed in me. It has been quite some time since my dad has said something that has hurt me. And that hurt beyond belief.

For some reason, making my dad proud of me, especially after all he has done, is still so important to me. In a way I wish I could be as selfish and self-centered as my sister. That way his approval wouldn't mean so much to me.

I'm going to be disappointed in myself if I don't get the degree I want, I know that no matter what I do eventually get, I will still continue to think what I could have one better at or tried harder at to get a better degree.

Right now, I can't think of a single thing in my life that is going well. Once again I have allowed myself to start falling for a guy when I know all too well that nothing will ever happen. Though I still can't stop myself from hoping. I'm living in my head, in what ever make believe world I can imagine to try and not think about how lonely I feel. Right now, I honestly feel as though I could be surrounded by people and still feel lonely.

Is there really any hope for people like me?

AFI - This Time Imperfect

This Time Imperfect by AFI is the perfect expression of my thoughts right now. I have spent years trying to find a reason to stay in the UK, my destination changing every now and again, but now it is Canada. I still have no non-biological reason. But I was talking to my sister earlier and it is clear she doesn't want me to leave.

It got me thinking, do I really have what it takes up just pack up and leave?

I wish I knew the answer to that question.

I felt so much better when I was in Canada, my thoughts and depression pretty much left me alone. I didn't think that would ever happen. But even this gets me thinking. I'm going to be on my own out there, no dad or sister on the other end of the phone and only one, maybe two people I actually know.

I know nothing is set in stone yet, but I sort of feel like this is my last year here. So this Christmas will be the last I get to spend with family etc.

As much as I have my heart set on moving to Canada, I am desperate to find a reason to stay. I pretend I'm so independent, but I don't think I am. At the end of the day, all I want most is my family.

Salt In My Wounds

This weekend has been hell. I knew it would, I just didn't think it would be this bad. I spent most of Saturday night crying, alone, and wishing that I had never gone home for the weekend.

For the past 15 months or so, since my mum and step dad split, my mum has brought home countless men. I wouldn't mind this if it wasn't in front of my 6 year old brother who she hardly does anything with. It hurt so much in the beginning when I told her how I felt about her doing this and she accused me of not wanting her to be happy. At the time it was so far from the truth. Though now, if saying that makes her be an actual mother to my little bro, I would say it... that is if I could stand talking to her.

She asked myself and my sister home for the weekend. I can't say I wanted to, but it would be the last time I would go before lectures start. We were going out for a meal in a pub. After we got there and ordered our drinks, she fucked off to chat up some guy. Not saying more than two words to either of us. When we went upstairs to have our meal, she brought him up with her, not asking, nothing.

I walked out. She just pushed it too far.

I think I left any sort of love and respect for her in the pub that night. I was planning on grabbing my stuff from her house and then walking to the train station, regardless of the 3 hour wait I would have for a train. I just couldn't be there any more. My sister told me not to and that she would give me a life once they were done. I still don't know how she managed to sit there with her.

The next morning I had a message from my mum asking what had gotten into me the night before. No concern as to where I was or if I was safe, just what had gotten into me.

I haven't replied to any of her messages, or called when she has asked me to. I can't. She is even trying to get my sister to get me to call her. Does she not know that all this 'caring' behaviour is just adding salt to my wounds? It is too late for all that bull shit. Way too late.

Sunday morning I woke up numb. I guess I still am for the most part, though when she tried to contact me this morning, I cried. Not because of her, but because of my little brother. He means the world to me and I don't know how I am going to be able to see him without seeing her. I can't even stand the thought of talking to her, so you can probably guess that the thought of actually seeing her repulses me right now.

I guess in a way, I lost my mum a long time ago, it's only now that I am realising it. And to tell you the truth, it hurts like hell.

I Fell Like A Yo-Yo

It is strange. For the past few days I have been going from fantastic mood to foul mood as quick as a light switch.

So many good things have happened since my last post that I shouldn't really have any reason to be in a foul mood. But a certian house mate makes any sort of good mood vanish.

I don't really know why I bother any more. It has been like this since we met, and I have a feeling that this will continue until we part ways once university is over. I hate it cause when ever she gets to me any sort of creativity, such as my writing, just goes to pot. A lot of my writers block last year was down to her, the rest of it down to my own mental state.

Though saying that, it has me thinking. Is my inability to be comfortable around people, and my own social awkwardness my own fault?

I know I live in my head a lot, and I mean a lot and there are too many time for me to recall where I wished that the move to what ever world I was living in could be made permanent. But I feel so much safer there. In my own world where I am everything I want to be, I am with who I want to be, and most of all I am happy with who I am. Even now I wish I could move into my head forever.

I know I have the potential to be all these things, but the truth is I simply don't have the guts to go for it. I'm too scared to take those risks and to live through the rejection that I am bound to face. I mean, everyone is supposed to have this potential, it is just whether they have the guts to go for it, to reach that little bit further, even if it means they may fall out of the box society put them in.

There is this story I am in love with. It is all about these two people fighting to become the people they have the potential to be, to completely redefine themselves. There is this one character in the story I have a big connection with, but in the story they have the strengh to fight. I don't know if I have that fight any more... if I ever had it to begin with.

I guess this is where my hatrid of happy endings has come from, the fear that I wont get my own. I know I have said to a lot of people that I don't care that I am on my own and don't get on with my family. But deep down I do, I care a lot. I feel certian things too much and I wish I didn't.

I'm going to stop my ramblings now, as that is really what this has become. Heck, I'm even making myself depressed, and I didn't think that was possible. Can a depressed person become even more depressed?