Hello again world of internet. I am in a very good mood today, and I have absolutely no idea why. I haven't left the house today, I got woken up earlier than I would have liked, and I haven't been sleeping well, but for some reason I am in a cheery mood. I will just roll with it. Unfortunately, I don't have anything to write about today, and the next few things in my journal are not happy things and I don't want to bring myself down from this quite yet.
I found something near the current "end" of my journal that was written a few days before I moved, and I was sort of in a high mood, I guess.
"I try to be accepted, socially, so hard, but I always feel like I'm in a slightly separate space. Like I'm in the same place as them, but in a just slightly different dimension or something. I'm always watching what I say or what I do, and it's never enough, it seems.
And they talk about me. I know they do, I hear them, and even if it's just a passing comment or something that's not even mean, I still can't handle it. I can't. I stay up and think about it when I am trying to sleep. Why do I try so hard?
I just want them to like me, but no matter what I do, it's not enough. It's never enough. Why not?
Even when I do exactly what I think they want, they still don't like me. I'm not accepted. I still don't fit in. I still don't feel like I'm their friend.
But it doesn't matter anyway, because I'm leaving. And I won't see them again. Any of them. And I will miss them, but they will forget about me after a while. Which is fine. They always do. and when I think this, I know I'm just seeing what I think is true even if it's not. But it feels true. It feels real. And I hate it. Maybe I'm not feeling like their friend because I make myself not a friend. But I can't help it. Am I depressed? I don't think so. Because if I were, I wouldn't know that I am being stupid by thinking this. But I can't stop."
I know this doesn't sound like it was written in a high mood, and maybe I just remember it that way because I am in a high mood now.
My room mate for the last two months I lived in my apartment used to get drunk quite often, and sometimes if I was also drunk, we would sit down and have some of the most fascinating conversations I have ever had, maybe they just seemed that way because I was drunk, and I don't exactly remember a lot of what we talked about, but I do remember feeling completely at peace talking to him, which is weird because before he moved in, I'd know him for about two weeks maybe. But I could identify with him so easily, I think that was why I enjoyed the conversations so much. Eventually he didn't talk to me anymore, I'm not really sure why, but whatever. Anyway, during one of these conversations, he told me that everyone he considers to be a friend just ends up leaving him. And I remember telling him something along the lines of "Maybe your friends leave you because you make yourself unavailable as a friend." After I said that, I really thought about what I said, and I started applying it to my own situations, and I realized that that is exactly what I do. When I think about friends I had in the past that I no longer have, I automatically assume that they no longer wanted or needed to be my friend and that is why we don't talk anymore. And I still think that. But now there is that seed of doubt in my mind. What if they stopped being my friend because I stopped being theirs?
I know that when I get to close to people, I subconsciously start pushing them away, because I expect them to hurt me eventually. In the past, I only applied this theory to people I date, or my closest friends, but now that I think about it, I have done this to every person I have met, no matter how close I get to them. And somehow, I still let them hurt me.
I am going to start making a conscious effort to not do that anymore. I am not going to push away people that matter to me anymore. Because being hurt by them, in the long run, is so worth the happy times that I could have with them.
I say that, but it probably won't happen. Recently, the thing that has hurt me the most, came from someone I thought couldn't hurt me anymore, or wouldn't. I don't know why I thought that, maybe because I thought that I was so used to them hurting me that I wasn't letting it bother me any more. Anyway, he said to one of my other friends that he thinks I am just a whore who sleeps with anybody. There are two reason this bothers me. First, if I show any amount of affection toward anyone, it is because I trust you enough to like you, and that only happens when I have known you enough to trust you, which doesn't happen very often. Second, this was said by one of the only people who I knows that the word Whore bothers me so much more than anything else you could call me, and he knew why, I thought. Maybe not. I don't really know now. And I am done thinking about it.
I have so much more motivation to write when I am not in a high mood. I wonder why that is.