Only the Lonely

As much as I love doing things on my own, not having to worry about anyone else at all, it really does get lonely. I know I’ve said it time and time again, I’m lonely. This past weekend I went up to the Sequoia National Park. Did some hiking, climbed a rock, more hiking, saw ginormous trees and more hiking before a four hour drive home. It was nice being out in the woods since there isn’t a lot of it in the city. I had plenty of time to think to myself, clear my mind, overthink some things and in the end I still thought, I wish someone actually came with me.

A couple of weeks ago I was in the middle of downtown L.A. for their monthly art walk. Went from gallery to gallery and found a couple of the artists that I follow. I even went to a place called The Last Book Store. Pretty cool place. A giant maze of books. Everywhere you went, there were books.

On my way to one of the galleries, the scene was straight from a bad movie where there is a girl all alone in the dark street and three guys coming her way and attack her. I was lucky and didn’t get attacked. I made it to the gallery and I just had this eerie feeling when I walked in. Creepy security guard in the entrance. The building was empty. Took the elevator to the 5th floor. Inside the elevator was all carpet with a dim light and musty smell. I walk out of the elevator and find myself in an empty half lit hallway. I look for the suite number of the gallery, turn a corner here and another one there and then I found it but the door was locked. Gosh I wish someone was here with me. So I had to go back through the dim lit hallways back to the creepy elevator down the building and back into the dark street alone. I eventually made my way back to the crowded streets and made it back to my car. After that, I didn’t go to any other galleries because they were opposite from where I was and a lot further and I certainly didn’t want to go down any more dark streets. This is why I wish someone was with me. Well one of the reasons.

That Saturday, I went to Santa Monica for a Kite Festival. I love kites! I brought my camera to take pictures. I wanted to fly a kite but couldn’t because no one would hold my camera for me. I didn’t stay too long since they kept flying the same kites. I walked around 3rd Street Promenade a bit, got something to eat then went home.

My cousin always tells me how jealous she is of my life and how I can go anywhere whenever I want to and be spontaneous. We were roommates for two and a half years. We were Disneyland buddies. We would go on food adventures together. I miss those days. She’s got two kids now.

So I know how it feels like to have a friend or a companion or just someone to do and share all these things with and now I do everything alone. I may be courageous and say, “YEAH I DID IT ALL BY MYSELF!” and be proud of myself for doing so, but it always comes back to me being lonely. Everyone is like, “Look at you, miss independent.” and will say “I’m so jealous of you.” But on the flip side, I look at their lives and see that they have a family, they have family events, everything is done with someone. So I will say this, I am jealous of you. You have memories to share with your family. Don’t get me wrong, I like doing all the things that I do, I just wish I could share them with someone.

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Afraid to love again

So I’ve gone on a handful of first dates and none have gotten past that. I’ve never really had to think what if things did work out and there was a second or third date? Except once. Where would that lead to? What would happen? I went on a date with a guy a couple of weeks ago and he really really liked me. To be honest, it kinda scared me. It’s hard for me to remember how it felt like to be liked by another, let alone have them like me more than I liked them. But then again, this guy was going waaay too fast. I mean he was already asking me hypothetical questions like if in the long run things went well, would I move in with him? And do I think my family would like him? Hold on there bud! It’s only the first date. Now I know how guys feel when us girls go planning things out way too quickly. I guess men do it too. HA He asked me what my expectations were for our date and in all honesty, I said I didn’t have any, which was true. Only because I’ve been on so many dates and none of them have gone past the first so there is nothing to be expected. What can I say? I’m sure he didn’t like the answer, but I don’t lie. He told me I should or need to take risks in life and need to live life to the fullest, something along those lines. Believe me I do. I live my life. I have fun. I do what I want when I want, just not in that department. I’ve been hurt too many times. The wounds are deep and have healed, but the scars are there. I realize that I’m deathly afraid of really letting myself get into a relationship that I probably ruin my chances before it could even happen. Will I ever learn to love again? Or will I be too heavily guarded to even let anyone in?

Broken heart character icon in red color. Hurt love symbol.

 

a blast from the past

All he wanted was my innocence. He used me, used my depression against me, verbal abuse day after day. “You’re too happy, you’re too sad, you are such a child.” Because of him, I fought with my parents, family, rebelled, did drugs, drank and I acted like I was proud of it. I lost who I really was even when I didn’t know myself. I became the worst person I could be when he was around. He talked about intimate personal things about me in front of everyone. He cheated on me and stung me along when things didn’t go his way. I watched him push me away as he got closer to her even when we were still in a relationship. When she got depressed and started hurting herself, he threw it right back at me “don’t go hurting yourself just to get attention from me!”

We decided to go to Vegas for my birthday and he wanted to bring her along. We had our own room, our friends in the other. We started to mess around and one thing led to another. After some time I wanted to stop and I told him to stop but he kept going. It started to get really rough and hurt really bad and I told him it was hurting and to stop again, but he still didn’t stop until he felt he was done. I was in so much pain so I stayed laying on the bed. When we got up, we got decent and joined our friends, they thought we were just having crazy sex. After that weekend, we broke up. At one point some of us friends went to get coffee and I overheard him say to someone, “All I wanted was her innocence.”

Around this same time my parents were starting to go through their divorce. It didn’t make things easy at all. I smoked when I shouldn’t have. For years all I wanted was to hurt him back, to get revenge on him. Even 3 years into the next relationship I had, that was all I could think of. I wanted to hurt him, I wanted to kill him, I wanted him to die, four of five years I would try to get my revenge, try to figure out where he lived.

After some time I forgot about it. Some things changed. Another 5 years passed and here I am now. But I can’t forget the way it made me feel, the way it still makes me feel about myself. So violated and dirty and broken. I should had my guard up. I shouldn’t have given myself away so easily. Is it my fault that this happened to me? That I let it happen? Who is it that I need to forgive? I don’t want to talk about it because I feel so ashamed of myself. Even just writing it down is hard. I don’t want to cry anymore. I don’t want to hurt anymore or feel this way and I keep saying that every single time and now I sound like a broken record. I don’t want to tell this story anymore. At the same time, I know my life wouldn’t be the same if none of this happened. I wouldn’t be the person I am. I would probably be lost in a world of shadows hiding behind everyone I could, like everyone else and not having my own mind, my own personality. And even when Derick tried to turn me into someone else, he got me to find my own true self. As harsh of a reality that I had to go through with them, all I had to do was to look deeper, behind what was really happening. In a sense, maybe I should thank them, because of them, I am not as sensitive, I can think for myself and know that I am making the right decisions in life. I have the strength to stand up for what I believe is right.

**This is something I wrote a long time ago. I found it in one of my journals. I wrote it because I’ve gotten over, worked through this particular part of my life.**

I Want To Fly!

I want to fly and be free,┬ádream and be careless,┬áto travel with the wind and chase the sun and the moon and fly through then sky to see the universe and all of it’s wonders, to be weightless and to just be me. I want to fly!

I don’t want to follow or obey, I don’t want to feel restricted and tied down and be limited to what I can do and what I can think. I want to fly!

I don’t want to think or act, I want to not care and let the chaos come take me and swallow me whole down to the depths of my fears, rip my soul out and start all over again. I want to fly.

I want to fly and find who I really am inside and out, to be ready to face myself and the world again and for the first time in my life, be who I really am

I want to fly!

lets pretend

Lets pretend that this mental illness of mine was all made up. That I am doing it for attention. That I don’t need to take all this medicine. That I am always on the up and up and life is good. Then reality kicks in and it is all very real. I’m not doing it to get attention. Believe me, I don’t like getting all the attention. I don’t want to feel like this. I don’t want to have to rely on medication just to make me feel normal. I don’t want to constantly be asked “Are you okay?” because I really don’t have an answer and of course I’m going to lie and say that I am. But at the same time I don’t want to talk about it either. There is nothing to talk about. I’m just in a state of mind. The in between. Not negative, not positive, I’m in nowhere land. I have no control over this. It just happens without me knowing it and by that time, it’s too late. I’m already there. I’m in this state of mind that is indescribable. A blank stare across my face. My inside is hollow with cobwebs hanging here and there. Cold grey cement walls. No thoughts. No words. No actions. How long it lasts, I don’t know. I can’t put on a happy face anymore and pretend that everything is okay. I wish I could, it would make things a lot easier. People won’t get hurt. I don’t choose to be like this. But I can’t take it anymore. I don’t want to have to explain myself to people when they see me like this because there is no explanation. I’m tired of having to pretend that everything is okay, that I am okay, because I’m not and everything is not okay. I don’t want to be fixed, my doctor is already doing that. You just gotta let it pass. Lets just pretend that people understand what it is that I’m going through and give me a break. I am trying my hardest to get through this and I gotta tell you, this, THIS, is REALLY REALLY REALLY HARD! I haven’t given up yet. I’m still here, aren’t I? But please, don’t be offended if you are not the person that I choose to talk to about this. I do it for good reason. So in the end, lets just pretend that I don’t have this mental illness and you treat me like a normal person as if nothing was ever wrong.

not quite an open book

I have a hard time talking about my depression. It’s easier for me to stay away from people, no one gets hurt and I don’t become a burden to anyone. A lot of people tell me that I could talk to them and that they are there for me. Unfortunately, like many of us, there are only certain people that we can confide in. So with that being said, thank you, but no thank you in the most sincere way. But then, there comes a time when I do try to open up to someone. I give very subtle hints and maybe they may not even be noticeable so it is at no fault to that person if they don’t notice it. Instead of picking up on my hint, they tell me to do something else and the conversation is over. At the same time it turns me further away from trying to talk about things and am reminded of why I don’t dare try to bring things up and then hide them even more. It’s ok, I’m used to it. I’ve hid it for a very long time and it is extremely hard for me to talk about in the first place. I don’t know when or if there will ever be a time that I talk about it outside of my therapist’s office. I mean sometimes I have a lot of things to say and others, there is absolutely nothing. Nothing at all, just stuck in a state of mind. Truth be told, I am afraid of openly talking about it because I really don’t know what the other person is going to say and I don’t know what to expect from them either. I am afraid that they will say something that will offend me or vice versa and then we end up getting mad at each other because of the misunderstanding. I know I haven’t given it a chance so I shouldn’t even be critical of it, but it really scares me to talk about it. If I end up somehow talking about it, it is very very surface level, nothing to really know exactly what is going on, just that I’m in an off mood or I’m not myself today or something doesn’t feel right, whatever excuse I can come up with to dodge the conversation. I never really liked the attention either. So, it’s just going to be an ongoing battle of what should I do?

salon-du-livre-castelsarrasin

What am I doing with my life?

I got home today and I sat on the couch thinking… What am I doing with my life? (Deep sigh) I’m not necessarily going on a bad note but just really been doing some serious thinking here. I’m 37 years old. I’m not married. I don’t have kids. Not that I’m trying to jump on any bandwagon and not that being single is a bad thing either, but I just wonder, is there more to life than what I am doing? I often think, what is my purpose in this life if I haven’t got a family? I’ve done a lot of things as far as being single goes. I’ve been to London, Paris, Florence, Venice and Rome. I’ve been to Aruba. I’ve been to my fair share of the US states. I’ve jumped out of a plane three times already and would do it again at any time. I’ve tried rock climbing and snow boarding. I’ve entertained my artistic side. Got tattoos. I’m tired of the dating scene… It’s gotten me nowhere. I have two cats and a dog and without them, what am I doing here exactly? Not to entertain any thoughts of suicide but if they weren’t here, then what am I living for? What else is there for me to do? Am I just going to be doing the same routine for the rest of my life? What if there is no guy out there for me and I end up alone? I know I’ve said that I’m content with my life, but here I am questioning, what next? What else is there for me to do? What else is there to do in this life of ours? Are we meant to do anything? Is there a purpose to us being on this earth? Eat, sleep, work, sometimes play, repeat! not exactly in that order but you get the picture. In some of my older posts, I put that I was finally moving on with my life, but what does that exactly entail? Okay, okay, part of it was my art stuff. That I had fun doing. Meandering around the city not exactly knowing where I was going and just absorbing everything around me. I have this teeny tiny bit of a wish to go on with my photography but with a full time job, taking classes will be a challenge and going out to take pictures will require days off. Okay, I know I’m just making excuses. Lets say that in a year or two, I do fulfill that wish and get to do what I want with my photography? Then that step is over. Then what? I kinda solved a bit of my problem but it came back up again. I know I’m fast forwarding here but who doesn’t plan for their future? Where am I going to be in 5 years? Am I going to still be living in the same apartment, still single, obviously still loving my pets, they keep me alive, and then run into the same question. Now I’m back to square one. Sigh. Maybe I’m just trying to write out my rant to hopefully come to a conclusion that I know doesn’t exist, but maybe just a glimmer of hope? I guess not. Oh well, it was worth a shot. Til next time.

Hope