I feel a little out of place today. I'm not sure why but 'tis true.
In my darker days I feel alone though that is a strange feeling to have when I am the most connected I have ever been to anyone. I hurt those that get closer than arms length and I'm fighting every instinct not to do that again. I don't harm them physically I scar them emotionally by turning on them the moment they try to reach for more. I act indifferent and cool to those I have previously been so warm to. They don't understand and in the end become just as wary of letting people close as I and never want to try that again with me. Most of the time separating themselves completely from me.
Perhaps this is why I feel the lack of emotions, or the lack of being able to process them would be more accurate. They don't register inside me though I know the correct responses. I can't really explain it. Maybe it is just that I feel the depression more than I feel anything else so it overwhelms and contorts about me to make me not feel anything but the pain and sadness that I am wrapped in day in and day out despite the good things that happen.
When did I become depressed? I don't remember ever feeling anything. As far as I can remember I have always been in this state. Does that mean I have been depressed since I was a child? Obviously some periods of time were worse than others but could that time frame be right? How can anyone be so sad for so long? What could possibly have made a child like that? No my childhood was not normal; I was never truly a child. There were bad things that happened but does just that make the depression that I now know and am aware of in a suffocating way? I am detached from my moral compass, detached from my emotions, detached from the piece of every human that makes them so, detached from an understanding that makes you hope.
Perhaps that is the worst of all, for how can you keep living with out hope. What do you live for without it? How have I continued on and pressed forward without that base thing that all human hold so close to them? What am I if I am without hope? Can I truly be called human? I suppose I can what makes us human is our free will, the ability to make choices. But what good are those choices with out a hope that there is something bigger, better, more suited to our dreams. How do I have dreams without hope? Maybe I am not as fully disconnected from it as I think perhaps I feel more than is there. Can that be true? Can the constant disconnect be exacerbated by that suffocating pain?
Who and what am I? This is the question that we all live our lives trying to figure out. This is a journey question; one that leads us to new ones that define, shape, and mold us. Why does it feel like such a life and death question to me? These questions are make or break.
I'm so used to having to stand strong and be a pillar to all those around me. I told someone the truth the other night though, I want to be broken. I think that if I fall and shatter, the pieces that are picked up and patched together would be better than the person I am now. I want to struggle and fight and be broken by someone else's will. Then I want to find my strength again and be better for being broken in that way. My will has been test to it's limits so I'm unsure if anyone will ever push that far. I may be doomed to floatieness. For that is what I have learned to do; just float along with no reason or purpose but survival.
Do I have a survival instinct? You know the part of you that strives for self preservation. My previous wish of being broken seems to be counter to that. The way I enjoy pain seems to be opposite to that as well.
Yes, I enjoy pain it has been my constant throughout my life so instead of finding a way out I learned to make lemonade. It's a jaded and beautiful thing to find pleasure of all kinds in pain. Never fully from the pain of others mostly just in my own pain and twistedness. I'm a demented creature whatever I am. Still I am me and I'm unsure if I could ever exist any other way.
How do you break someone who walks about as a torn and tattered rag doll but still stands as if nothing is wrong? What would it take to break me? Love? More pain? Passion? Intensity? Weakness? Truth? Life? Death? Compassion? Hate? What can break a twisted thing? Is my wish impossible? Does anyone have the will to do so?
The one I thought would do it got farther than most but stopped trying when he felt he'd gotten far enough to really see me. He does see me but I'm still intact, the shell and distance remains.
I have taken another like me far in past that shell without question or thought. She is me. There are still layers separating us but they are far fewer than I have ever put between me and someone else. I am sure that with time even those will go just as quickly. There are somethings that only time can accomplish.
There is another who holds her and is held dear by her that could break me if he so wished for he is the one I told of my wish to be broken. I doubt he will though. I am a new friend to him with an attachment that I am as of yet unsure of because our friendship just sparked. He, in a different way, is me too. I keep wanting to write that I am nothing to him, but I am unsure of that statement because from what I can tell he seems to care to some extent. As I said though the friendship is new and relatively undeveloped.
I will be my own undoing though in the end and because it will be me breaking myself I don't know if I'll be able to find that strength again to patch the pieces and float again. Perhaps the two other pieces of me will be able to do the patching for me though.
It's such a strange thought to me to depend on others, I have forgotten how. I have taught myself not to because it never ends well. Just the thought makes me want to rebel, and push away, cut the ties. But it hurts to think of doing that because as I have stated I don't make clean cuts when I break away. I don't want them hurt, more so than usual. None of those that I have spoken of in this diatribe.
Paradox, that's what my friend called me. He had no idea how true that would become for me. I am as I have said many times the most extroverted introvert you will ever meet. I am the sweetest and the cruelest. The peacemaker prone to violence. I am the ambitious without purpose. I am the promise and the threat. There is no denying that. My dream job should have told me that. This is a horrible statement to make but I want to be a florist and an assassin. How opposite can you be? Well I am chaotic neutral after all.
Now after this pouring out of my soul you'd think I could move on or have some change happen because I suddenly realize how fucked up I am. Yeah, not happening. I will still float aimlessly across time until my breaking either by myself or someone else.
Perhaps I should end this dramatically though. Maybe, if I'm lucky, instead of having to pick up the pieces and find my strength again once I am broken, maybe this breaking will just kill me instead. Ha ha.
