I suppose it's just my loneliness dictating my actions. After all, when it all boils down, the whole reason why I blog is for self expression, isn't it? As I'm slowly becoming more and more aware, I am facing a huge loneliness problem. It's the strangest feeling in the world, dear blog. Strange that I am surrounded by friends and family that say without hesitation that they love me and that they'll be there for me whatever happens, that unflinchingly say they understand me the best, and yet... I feel so alone. I am not alone but I feel so alone. Paradoxical, I know. Almost like girls who wear XS garments thinking they're fat... ahah. Whoops.
As I've mentioned the umpteenth time by now, I super enjoy talking to my psychotherapist, -. I think it took a combination of having been friends with Cypy, watching her change, cutting her from my life, and then having - to talk to that I see more clearly what it is I feel lacking in my life.
I just... want to talk.
Perhaps it's my hateful perfectionism acting up again, but I feel as if no one around me really offers the catharsis, the solace of a listening ear, the open mindedness, and that... intangible yet wholly palpable feeling of emotional investment I get from talking to a psychotherapist. From an uneducated ape's standpoint like mine, it's magical how - hits all the right buttons in me, without me even realising it. It's like... all I can say is... that she knows when to shut up and listen, and she knows when to speak, and what to say, all while being to... genuine, you know? Her spontaneous laughter, her giggles, her soft kind words, they all stick to me in my memory.
It's difficult, I know, to find someone whom can emotionally massage you as well as a trained psychotherapist. And maybe I'm just being narrow minded, because my friends aren't nearly as awful as my family when it comes to how they make me feel when I share my woes with them. I suppose there's also an associated guilt with talking to them, because we're all grown ass adults now, each of us ought to have our own problems, our own doubts, and our own adult responsibilities to tend to. YS is a workaholic as usual - he works himself to the bone at the detriment of his health even without me bugging him, and even the carefree JJ is becoming like that in spite of how it's not in his personality to be a workaholic. TKJ... well... he's not good with this kind of "soft" topics, I think. He's struggling with his own depression, he has severe family issues at home, and I've never seen him show his vulnerable side, being the proud man that he is, even when he lost his father. I don't really have a good word for it, but I feel he's way too "hard" for me to really talk to him.
Don't get me wrong, I don't dislike any of them, nor am I saying that I don't enjoy my time with them. What I'm saying is that... I feel perhaps, that I always feel guilty taking up the time of others to talk, and that I don't really have anyone I can be vulnerable with. That I don't have anyone to share my deepest thoughts, my most intense feelings, my most nauseating insecurities, and my everyday struggles with. Either I'll feel guilty for imposing on my friends, or I'll get cut off and have voices raised at me, or people won't even be interested at all to begin with. Or any of the mix of the above.
I wonder if I'm going insane, or if I'm just too perceptive for my own good. Maybe it's just a sign of the times, a sign of what we as a society has become, has deemed to be the most beneficial and conducive to life as a whole. Maybe historians hundreds, if not thousands of years later may chance upon this and be like "welp, he called it". I get whack ass fantasies like that in my head sometimes, haha. But, at this point, it almost feels like I need to pay a pretty, kindhearted lady to listen to me for an hour to really feel like I got something off my chest, like I've any hope of emotionally connecting with someone, never mind that I really shouldn't be staking all my hopes and expectations on a married, hired for help woman. It's just what it seems to have come to, for me. I feel like I'm lonely and desperate enough to be that type of 50 year old rich single uncles who can afford to sugar daddy girls going through college. Except I'm 24 and I don't even know if I'll have enough money in the bank for my next meal transaction.
It's... sad. I feel a rather dark cloud hovering over me and I don't know what I can do but to suck it up and accept it. I tried searching for "personal blogs", "personal writing", "depression stories", etc., on Google not too long ago, and all I can seem to find are templates, articles on the pros and cons, tips and tricks on how to make money off blogs, and everything in between, but actual personal writing like what I'm doing. I start to find that, even on Facebook, my friends have, before I realised it, stopped expressing themselves in their own words entirely. Nowadays it's all selfies, wefies, food, travel photos, or "share this for a chance to win xxx" types of posts. Nothing about how their days were, nothing about what their lives are becoming, nothing about their tastes, personal preferences, hobbies... and, well, I don't really blame them. Maybe our lives really are that boring. Maybe people don't expect as much as I do from life, nor do they ask so many philosophical questions that don't have a clear cut, simple, definitive answer like we're taught we need to answer every question in school. Maybe self expression in this day and age is just career suicide, with how easily searchable everything and everyone is.
Almost makes me miss the days when people would berate my behaviour with "everyone needs friends to survive!", and "no one man is an island!"
It's why I write, I guess. I mean, aside from this whole "maybe I'm onto something and my text will prove useful to someone somewhere" fantasy. I hope I can find others like me who share, so I'll feel less alone. Maybe because I've no one to really talk to.
I know I'm not alone, but I feel so alone. And, you know, maybe it's not entirely fair to just point fingers and lay the blame on something so vague like society. I know if I said that I'm lonely, someone please talk to me, on Facebook, I know I'll get a few responses. I know some people will put in the effort. But, in the same vein, I also know that I'll just clam up and give short, simple, curt, conversation ending answers. I'll never be able to expose myself to them like I do here. Part of it is because I "know" I'm a very long winded person who can't express himself without a thousand words in writing, and "ain't nobody got time for dat". I know the things I'm interested in, the things I care about, my opinions and my viewpoints are of the unpopular minority, and not everybody in this strawberry generation knows how to handle that. And so over time, it's been a lifelong lesson that I just shut the fuck up, because why bother, right?
It's... also because of the whole debacle with codad that I've yet to be able to make any friends on my own. It's the main reason why I strongly suspect I've PTSD from it, and it's something I've already told - I want to work on together with her.
I wonder if there's a cure for loneliness, or, if like eczema, I'm just going to have to live with it for the rest of my life.
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