The weather has been changing. Before you know it, it’ll go from sunny days to overcasts skies. From summer skin to winter coats and layers. I hate the summer and it’s over exposure of skin, that I never feel comfortable showing. I am in no way a prude but my insecurities seem to make me more conservative. It’s a piece of myself I never like to show. Its this never ending process of learning to love your body, when you’re still in the process of accepting this skin.
I could lose all the weight and still feel self conscious of my skin, and the abnormalities of my body. I’ve watched my body go from big to medium to large again. I’ve watched my skin stretch and rest on different parts of my body. And all I’ve wanted is to cover up never show the world. Hide under layers of clothes to distract myself from what’s underneath. I wonder if I will ever get over this feeling. If being so body conscious changes over the years. They say it changes when you get older, but what if it doesn’t. I have to pretend to be comfortable and accepting, when I just want to rip my skin off. Take this image I see of myself that I know no one else can see, and pretend it doesn’t exist. I want to hide behind trees and behind overcast skies. Where shadows can mask my body and its abnormalities. We are praised for our bones and our skin that stretches over our skeletons. Sometimes when the weather changes you can’t help but remember this is a process. Bodies have this ability to change but I don’t feel like that.
I have become so comfortable with hiding at home and avoiding the outside world. Avoiding a million different emotions, in favor of hiding in this misery and self pity. It’s the heat that drives me crazy. That makes me believe I can’t be myself. I can’t hide from the heat, I only expose myself more to keep from being hot. But in the cold, I hide behind layers of fabric to hide what I don’t love about myself. I’ll never be perfect and I’ll never be pretty. I’ll be stuck under this skin that stretches for as long as I can see. One day I’ll be more accepting, but in this unforgiving heat, I can’t see myself pretending.
I stare out of windows so often, I forget I am inside. Forget that I am stuck inside when the world is outside living. How lively my surroundings that screech and scream in vibrant colors. And I find myself too afraid to notice. Afraid of the world that continues to go on, day after day. The vibrant colors that beckon me to come outside, but I am too afraid to listen. Too afraid to go.
It was the inside that allured me. The inside that called me home. The inside that kept me like an outsider, just wanting to go home. I am on the inside but I often feel like the outsider. That I am looking inside at everyone else. The sun goes from glowing to dim, and I watch light jump from building to house, through trees and even this window. The light it glows golden sparkling within the pinks and the violets of the afternoon. It beckons me. Calls out to me, to outstretch my hands to reach out and touch the sky. But still I sit, still I stay. You can call me out but I won’t play, call me out but here I stay.
I stare out windows so often I forget I am inside, but inside I stay.
The same thoughts, the same process, the same cool demeanor. While I sit here wonder, analyze and change everything. I keep asking myself, what I should be doing. Should I be changing, should I be asking different questions, engaging you in what you want to hear? What am I doing here? Should I be pretending to be everyone else, under a veil of vulnerability. If what you say and who you are, are completely different people, then who are we really? First impressions mean everything and yet we can’t help but pretend to be different people, hiding under veils of insecurities.
This feels stupid, this feels silly. This lack of self control is slowly going out of control. I calculate my actions so delicately and watch my words fall like chess pieces on the board. It’s all a game and we are all here for taking. What I want and what you want, and seeing how everything evens out. How strong and cool in demeanor you are and how I can’t help but gravitate to those ways. How mysterious the mystery of people really are. How a person can change how you look at things with out doing much of anything.
I don’t know you. For a brief second, I think I know everything. I don’t. I don’t know anything about you but yet I still want you around. I want to know what darkness harbors underneath your light. All I want is to take apart all your parts and see what makes you tick. It was easier with the other boys. It was easier with the legions of people before. It frustrates me. It frazzles me. How I wish to pick everything apart but it takes the fun out of everything. The fun out of the adventure. The fun out of the story. Giving me just enough to keep me coming back for more. All I want is a sign that this will be something. Something, anything from this over analyzing frustrated feeling. This lack of self control drives me insane and yet I embrace the challenge. This isn’t love, this isn’t like, but it feels like something like it. And I just can’t turn it off.
If they ask they receive. If they listen they will see. I wonder if all boys are the same, or if it’s just some boys. How some boys will sing their blues to anyone that will listen. Or is it just you.
I could spend countless hours being upset for all the wrong reasons. Most of the times I do just that. Become angry for things beyond my control, or angry for things I shouldn’t be angry about. I often forget there are other things bigger in this world. My hate and my anger over power all my light and I turn completely dark. I am the monster that is green with envy for a million different things. At this point, I don’t even know why anymore.
When you are hurting you forget about human kindness. When the paranoia of the world happens, you tend to forget about the kindness of humanity. You become angry with your surroundings, that has caused you to look differently at people. That life is meant to be used and hurt, and you’ve become very good at playing the victim. Lately I’ve played my victim role with pristine condition. I feel like everyone hates me for obvious reasons that I can’t understand. Hates me for every little thing that’s caused me to be paranoid toward everything and everyone. Everything I do is wrong. Everything everyone else does is always right. I can’t sleep when its these thoughts that keep me up at night. I watch people become ghosts to me and because I am too fucked up to listen, I allow them to be. At the same time, I don’t want my negativity to transfer to them. So I keep a close distance away from everyone until I no longer feel I am doing harm to anyone else.
Every so often people make you forget that. A smile from a stranger, a hello from a friend, something that shows you’re alive. Something that makes you feel alive, that people can crash into you and make you feel something. Something, anything. From this numbing feeling inside that takes away all your light. It’s not that I feel dead inside. I just feel sick. That a body snatcher has taken reign of my body and oozing out this sickening feeling. I hate it. It’s weird how simple conversations can change your whole mood. I feel angry for so many things beyond my control. Angry for the fact that I am angry. Upset over the fact that I can’t control how I feel anymore. Is this who I really am? Is this what sadness can do to a person? Make them a shell of their former self. I can’t be honest with people, with out terrifying them with reality. My reality is far more complicated then I show. All I do is go through the motions and cover everything up the best that I can.
I didn’t believe that anything could take away this anger. I was so overwhelmed with this feeling of darkness, I didn’t believe the light could come in. Somehow words snap you out of your feelings and before you know it you’re smiling again. Laughing, thinking, feeling human again. When you are seconds away from a meltdown, someone says the words to snap you out of that feeling. You feel it from your toes to your fingertips. Anything but the feeling you felt before. It’s weird how nice people are to you when you’re seconds away from a meltdown. As if they can sense all your problems and take them away from you. I guess I have been so used to everything going wrong that when things go right, I am afraid of what to do. All it takes is a few words from a stranger to bring me back to life. Sometimes that’s all we need to feel alive. Something to take away all this dark, even if it’s just for a little bit.
I didn’t have a meltdown today. I am slowly starting to feel like myself again.
Everything was going to be alright. I printed out my tickets, laid out my clothes and had every intention of going. Anything to get out of the house and keep driving. Anything to clear my thoughts. But I didn’t want too. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. People will say it was because my team has been playing terribly, but I knew better. When you’re depressed even the things you love become burdens in your life. Going to that game felt like a burden to me. I didn’t have it in me to go and feel stuck. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to be alone, I just didn’t want to be there. I didn’t want to go through this whole routine, this whole superstition. I didn’t feel good, I didn’t feel safe, and for the first time, nothing felt right. I hate admitting that. Admitting I have flaws in all the wrong times for all the wrong reasons. I just couldn’t bring myself to do something I loved, out of fear of my own emotions. I can’t control them anymore.
I drank for the first time in a long time last night. Drank just to keep my nerves from going insane. It’s weird how alcohol makes you feel when you haven’t had a lot of it. Maybe I am crazy. Everything that I once loved is turning into everything I hate, and I can’t understand it. I feel as I am not good to anyone. I have disconnected myself from the world and watching everything happen in fast forward. Alienating myself away from everyone. I don’t want my negativity to rub off on anyone. Therefore I keep everything to myself and just find way to pass time.
Anything, everything and moving on.
I was suppose to go to a baseball game and prove to myself, I could still do things that I love. Still have this feeling that at any moment I could fall in love all over again. Instead I opened the blinds and watched the sun rise and the sun fall from the sky. Cascading vibrant colors and begging me to go outside. It didn’t seem right to waste the day. Didn’t seem right to feel this way, but I did. I couldn’t help myself but continue to look out the window and watch the seconds turn to minutes and then minutes to hours. I don’t want to be here, but I’m too afraid too leave.