like i said, i will be writing again.
and here i am. but tonight, i am not going to write a particular piece. i just want to jot some thoughts out on this digital sheet of paper and get my brain restarted in a writing mood so that when i come back later this week, i’ll feel comfortable typing in this blank expanse. i have had actually a lot of good ideas, and i still have one that i crafted in my notebook from my english class.
speaking of class in general, man did i take it for granted. correct me if i’m wrong, but it’s hard to believe that it’s been almost two months since i stepped foot on campus for an in person class session. my last semester of college, and it was all stolen away from me. i’m not mad at anyone, and i know that it was necessary for the safety of everyone i love the most and for the general population, but it didn’t really come to realization until it was taken away from me. i wasn’t worried about commencement or walking the stage, because i was doing it for my mom and family to see and to celebrate how far i’ve come. and now that it’s gone, i am incredibly sad about it. i couldn’t stop laughing when i first attended my online spanish class, and my classmates were all in there asking how we were all doing, my professor just laughing and asking us questions about what we’ve been up to or how we’ve been feeling. it is very surreal. and it just really hasn’t helped me with my inability to grasp any kind of accomplishments or achievements i’ve made in life.
like yeah, i am going to have a bachelor’s degree in less than a month. but then what? does that really mean anything in the grand scheme of my life, the world? what have i amounted to so far? if i were to die tomorrow, would they talk about how many credits in college i had, or how close i was to a degree? what would they say for me?
i have been struggling with my own identity for quite some time now. i am fairly confident that in the past couple months, i have been losing the ability to empathize or be a compassionate person. several of the writing topics i’ve been crafting in my own head have dealt with this particular affliction. have i been spreading myself so thin by trying to talk to everyone, trying to be there for everyone, that i now have no idea who i am? or is it because i’m thinking so inwardly, and trying to revert the course of my own life and mind that i’m driving myself in the completely wrong direction? i just don’t think i am the person that i want to believe i am. and even if i were, i wouldn’t believe anyone that told me otherwise; i can only hear all of the negatives, i only pay attention to the faults i make, and i can’t help but feel like for the past six months i have just been on a raging inferno of a warpath, abandoning those who loved me and fighting off affection from every single direction. someone i know told me “you don’t allow yourself to feel anything for anyone.” and maybe they are right. i get this very strange feeling in every corridor of my body, from the pits of my own chest up to the clouded judgement of my own brain. it’s happened to me long before i dealt with this issue, but beforehand i just ignored it and kept pushing… but it always seemed to return. it has twice before. and now it’s just been lingering permanently. and i confidently believe that because of my inability to just project emotions or feelings in ways other than in my own head, i have been indirectly and directly hurting so many people around me.
like some kind of self-fulfilling prophecy, i’m just driving a wedge so far between myself and everyone around me that so when i’m all alone, i have no choice but to disappear from this. so how do you fix that? i love that when i write these diary entries, i spend half of them just asking questions to an empty expanse of paper. like shouting from center stage in an abandoned amphitheater. but seriously, i don’t know what it’s going to take to stop thinking this way, and to just stop being such a bad person towards those around me.
if you didn’t notice a trend in my writing, i was actually on complete fire before the whole shutdown occurred. i was really just churning out writing, and it was a combination of feeling good about my life and writing poetry and prose in my english classes. and i felt like it was good work, and i was so happy to share it and people were actually reading it. i posted on facebook a week or two ago that my website has surpassed views and almost writing pieces in this short span of time than i did all year in 2019. regardless of how i feel in my own brain and about myself as a person, i have infinite love and appreciation for those that read my writings and check my website, and click on my links, and ask me about my creative processes and just the silly things i do to write. but the whole shutdown really just threw me for a loop, and it really threw a wrench in my mentality. i wrote “the panic button in my brain” shortly after all the news broke and it helped me some, but there was just nothing i could do. being stuck inside the house all day and only going out for necessities and to work seldomly just don’t really strike the imaginary irons hot. but this is just the initial part of getting those gears turning again; writing out some of my thoughts, and getting my brain and hands used to typing and staring at this blank canvas. so let’s hope this works. i’ll wrap it up soon; i don’t usually expect anyone to read these anyways.
i wish i had all of the answers for my life. i wish i had the penultimate ability to believe what people told me about myself, which is ironic because i am usually naive about everything else; i feel like i trust everyone, i give everyone second chances, i just want the best for everyone, not just the people around me. at the risk of sounding selfish, i garner the most satisfaction out of seeing everyone else succeed and prosper. i have never been one to care that much about myself. i think maybe that isn’t the most humble thing to say in a way, like i wouldn’t just go around saying “yeah i just don’t care about myself” or “yeah i just want to see everyone succeed” because i feel like it sounds cliche and most people would not believe you anyways. the point is, i wish i knew who was telling the truth and who was just putting me on a pedestal. i wish everyone would just tell me the truth about how they feel about me, and stop beating around the bush. but i believe that happens to me so much because i think i do it too. i have started to realize that a lot of what occurs to me in social situations and just in life in general is because i reciprocate that same behavior. and i’m trying to become better about it. my mom always likes to say “oh honey, you are just like me when i was your age,” and it’s usually when i’m avoiding confrontation or standing up for myself. i don’t feel very strong most days.
last night, one of my old coworkers told me i take humor too far because i’m just looking “for another laugh.” i can’t erase it from my head, and even though i was drunk, i remember every single second of it. i’ve known for a while now that humor and laughter is a tactic i have used as a crutch for so long. and there are jokes and comments that i make that are hurtful to others, but because i think it wouldn’t hurt me, i am unable to recognize that. and THAT is one of the biggest aspects of my theory on losing the ability to empathize with those around me. not everything is about me. not everything i say is funny or not hurtful just because it doesn’t hurt me and it makes me laugh. that’s narcissistic behavior, no? my father. what’s stopping me from becoming that man? is this just the beginning of that, and while it’s just humor and light conversation now, what’s stopping it from becoming toxic behavior that destroys people and ravages social spheres past an irreparable state? look at what he did to my family, look at how he treated my siblings, my own mother. everyone always loves to tell me i’m just like my mom, but it feels like the darkest, most unrecognizable and toxic aspects of my identity are inherited from my father.
i’m losing a friend. i spoke about it a couple months ago, and it’s become an issue again. he’s just too scared to admit it. and like i do with my reciprocating behavior, i am too. but i know it, and it’s just a matter of time. it’s going to be impossible to avoid. it’s inevitable, and it’s incredibly sad. i’ve tried so hard, but i haven’t been perfect. i don’t wanna touch on this topic too much, it’s just not something i’m interested in doing. i just have so much conflict and hurt in my heart.
i’m trying to gather the pieces of my own heart and put them back together. many themes of my writings in the past four years have been about how there are people all over the place that have pieces of my heart, whether i gave them away, they stole them, or i just simply lost them. but now i’m trying to repair myself, and stop spreading my brain everywhere. i want to be the person i want to be, the person i have in my head that i think i can be. compassionate, empathetic, caring, and non-problematic. but i’ve got to reset. i’ve got to gather myself from the center, the deepest pits of what remains in my heart and what logic i have left from the clouded sections of my brain, and reboot the cycle. because i want to allow myself to feel. deep down, i’m fighting that barrier. i don’t know what caused it, and i don’t know why it’s there. but i’ll break through it. and i’ll be intact when i do shatter that glass.
if you have, by some rumination of your own insanity or just caring about what i have to say, made it this far in my writing, thank you so much. while i am trying to care more about everything going on outside of this little website with my ramblings, i have never stopped loving writing and every single person that reads anything on this website. about 5 years ago i really started just writing for no reason other than a weird desire to express worlds that i had in my head, and somehow i’m still here doing it. and so many people have come and gone and read what i’ve created, and so many people are still here reading it. i care for you. you have always been important.
i will be back soon with some writing pieces. i’ve got a lot of time of my hands, and i’ve got a lot of ideas that i’m bringing to life.
love ya.