||[Feb. 21st, 2001|02:24 am]
|[||Somedays I feel a little:
and still no one gets it. any of it. no one understands me. i feels as if the only people who remotely understand me are a slight few on live journal. how sad is that? of all the people I know in my physical realm, maybe 2 understand me enough to be able to say they know me. just 2. and i doubt either of them do. a few more on live journal understand me, but all they see is what is put forth from me. so much stays hidden within me either because i don't have the time to express it or because i don't feel the need. so much that goes by from day to day that no one hears about or knows just because i don't bother making the effort. who needs to know my personal doubts, my reasonings on why i do things, my personal analysis as to why someone i vaguely know anymore is being an idiot based off the little second hand knowledge passed to me by 2 people, my feelings of lonliness because there is no one around me who i feel i can relate to on equal ground because everyday, that ground changes shape based only on my thoughts and exposure to the world that day. i feel as if i should be burning out any day now, and yet i still continue. right now i'm awake only because anxiety is twisting my stomach in knots and if i try to sleep, i'll only wake up in an hour vomitting what little food i had for dinner. maybe throwing up would make it feel better for awhile. who knows. maybe i'd feel better if i drove my car off a bridge. doesn't mean i'll do it, but i'm sure i'd stop feeling like shit. i wouldn't have to put up with the daily bs that life throws at me. no more being expected to be the rock for everyone to cling to when they could care less about how much their clinging is hurting me. no more expecting to know every little problem without having a clue what is going on. no more having to be the one being made out as the villain because i have concern about my daily life and not about someone's severe mental anguish that they've decided to pour out to me at 1 am, waking me from a much needed slumber on a day before i have two tests at school plus work. i'm only human. i have my limits. maybe i should restrict my human contact to school, work, and an answering machine message to everyone else so i can screen out anything that is either inconvenient to me at the time or merely one more headache that i'm not going to make a difference being involved in. people fail to realize that maybe i just don't have the power or the physical and mental constitution to deal with the same repetitive emotional situations over and over again. eventually, it wears thin with me and i stop caring as much as time wears on, until i just become indifferent, even annoyed. its not that i don't care, its that i've lost the capacity to care. i've reached maximum load, i can take no more. from that point on, you start wearing away at my guilt until its used up to. then you just have an annoyed person left who is indifferent because they've heard the same spiel a thousand times and know that it will never be resolved. i can't fix everything. my life is crap, why would anyone think i might be able to help them work out their own? i'm not a therapist, i'm not a counsler, i'm not a psychiatrist. i'm freaking 19 years old, being expected to have the physical, mental, and emotional constitution of a star athlete, martyr and a saint. i think someone must have mistaken me for someone else along the way. i'm human. just like everybody else. sometimes i may seem otherwise, sometimes i may seem like some sort of ubermensch, but i'm not. i have my limits. and i'm quickly exceeding most of them. i hope i come out of this more than just a dried up intellectual husk of a person...