Diary – A Year Ago

This is a diary entry I wrote a year ago, or roundabouts. It is something I feel the need to share. Reading it back, well, it is enlightening to say the least. It shows how far I have come – something I honestly overlooked. 

Why, please tell me? How can I be so lonely and still – most of the time – feel nothing. Everywhere I see it. In other people’s eyes, in their locked hands, their kisses. I don’t, I seemingly cannot know what that is like. There are things that take away the loneliness a little. But they also add new things to the table. Namely jealousy, regret, and admittedly, self-hatred. Yet, I can’t make it a game of the pros and cons, life isn’t that analytical. So, what do I do, alone, never been with anyone, scared to be with anyone. What if by any remote possibility I get close to someone. How will that work? If someone I like with all my heart asks me out for lunch or dinner – on a date! What do I do then? I can’t live up to the expectation that people set on me, the expectation that are set on every single person. I don’t want any of that, I don’t care about any of it! I want people to see me. To love what they see without wanting on top of that. Then again, isn’t that what every single person wants, to be loved unconditionally.

Am I even capable of being loved? What are the requirements, the prerequisites? If I look into somebody else’s eyes, and see beauty on the inside – even if it may not be on the outside. If they look back what might they see in me? Someone devoid of so much that they aren’t recognisable. Someone so ambiguous and unexplainable that they want nothing to do with me. It’s not that I’m overly afraid of getting close to someone. It’s just that I wouldn’t know how to act, or what I should do. What happens in a situation where I like them, but that feeling is not reciprocated, or even the other way around? In a way all off this seems meaningless because I can never see myself even entering a situation even remotely close to something like that.

So, that’s it. My mind-set from a year ago. Pretty rough.

I’m not saying that too many things have changed. A lot of those things still remain in place. Of course, more than I would like – far more. But I am working on them. And that is a change, the biggest change thatt can happen. No longer am I utterly hopeless. No longer is the future so dark I cannot see it.

-Chris ❤

Exhausting Narrative

I sit and I read;

And I read and I sit.

A motion, by one,

To the next, and the next.

Simple, evocative.

Pained, impossible.

True, it’s not nearly enough.

But look, change,

It is first to be recognised.

And then acted upon.

One, and then two.

Understanding, in what to do.

Grasping on;

Clinging to my exhausted narrative.

Doing, and undoing.

Creating, and destroying.

A clock; a circle.

Going around and around.

A Distant Touch

Lightness of a touch, here, anywhere.

Something I crave far too much.

Maybe it’s not healthy, I’m not sure.

But being alone like this, it’s killing.

The opposite; it’s out of my reach, out of my sight.

Though, maybe I’ll be able to grasp for it one night.

That image sits in my mind.

A future of hope, a future in kind.

A demon, that’s what it is.

I’ve decided, it can’t have domain over all this.

That time has passed.

Waiting isn’t so hard; I’ve done enough.

Now I’ve got to act.

Far too much time has passed to just sit back.

 

Things Now

I haven’t really thought about that week at university too much. In some respects it seems like it didn’t happen at all, in others it is all too clear in memory. Though I don’t chastise myself for it. I don’t tell myself the time was wasted, or that it was for nothing. All experiences are valuable, whether in the first instance they seem good or bad. Experiences are worth more than anything else. They teach us more than anything else. And if it wasn’t anything else, it was surely an experience.

So… that was a month and a half ago… have I changed?

Maybe… perceiving change is a hard thing to do. Especially over such a small period of time. I seriously hope at least the tinniest amount of change has happened, the smallest shred somewhere in my mind. I’m not sure though. I do feel somewhat different. As though the catalyst for that change has just poked its head around the corner and begun work on its long, tedious job. This I feel good about. The notion of it alone is good enough.

For I have until next September to be a new person… no, not a new person, but a new version of myself. A person who is ready, confident, compassionate, motivated. If I am all of these things by that point, then I have the best chance possible to get where I want to go. And even if things then don’t work out. It will be an experience. I can say that I have tried my best, no less.

And trying against all of the odds – that’s the biggest thing any person can do.

 

-Chris ❤

On Loneliness

I am lonely, dreadfully so.

Loneliness… it’s sometimes a difficult concept to grasp. It creeps up on you, unassuming, writhing at parts of your brain, opening gates to parts of yourself you would rather not see.

Because being lonely isn’t just the need to be around people. It is more than that. Loneliness is a complex character that hides the darkest of corners, that pounces in the darkest of moments. It’s something you cannot tame nor understand in any sense. It is an enigma. Illusive and destructive.

I do have family.

I don’t have very many friends.

I have never been in a relationship.

I am lonely.

For the majority of the day, I am my own company, my own sense of humour, my own entertainment. This, I can withstand, this in many respects, I enjoy. I am an introvert. A lot of people, a lot of interaction does nothing for me, and I know it never will. What I don’t particularly like is the lack of options, the lack of any interaction at all.

I know I am at fault, mostly. I can’t expect to have friends or relationships if I don’t put myself out there, I know that. And knowing this hurts, because it is an extremely high hurdle to overcome, to even look at in a respectable light. Yet, here I sit, alone, typing these words, wishing there was someone next to me.

Maybe loneliness itself isn’t an entirely bad thing. We all realise and see the stigma and social pressures of being alone, they stare and slap us in the face on daily basis. This is, in part, why we feel lonely. Just maybe we can benefit from the lack of people. It gives us a chance to listen to our own rambling thoughts, to partake in all the commotion that resides in our own minds. Do something with that time, create, live life, be who you want to be. Loneliness doesn’t intrinsically mean unhapiness, it is a by-product – though it doesn’t have to be!

Just don’t forget, people are necessary.

(P.S, to all the beautiful introverts out there, read Susan Cain’s book ‘Quiet’.)

Unkept Promises

I’ve made my fair share of promises, so has everyone. Meaningul or not, often promises are broken. This is the nature of promises. So much so, that they actually rarely ever mean anything grand at all. Of course there are exceptions, some promises have a lot of weight, a lot resting and counting on them. And we all know there are people we can count on, people who’s promises won’t go unheard and neglected.

What bothers me the most is the promises I have made to myself, not those I’ve made to others. The things I have told myself with all the intention of actually doing, following through on. I cannot even count them. They are so numerous, so wide-ranging that I can’t even begin to tackle what I have and haven’t said to myself – what needed saying and what didn’t. The thing is, most have them have gone neglected, forgotten, and not cared for.

This makes me sad.

It is that problem that never gets rectified. The one where we tell ourselves we will do it tomorrow. But when tomorrow is reached, we say the next day, and the day after, and the day after… so forth. And throughout this, nothing happens. We remain the same as we always have, change… it is an ideal that we rarely ever reach. And yet, we build promises on top of the unkept promises. A pile that grows and grows. While we grow weary too at our own failings, at the things we haven’t done, as we envisage the things we want and need to do.

It is a cycle that is seemingly impossible to break.

The promises we make to ourselves are always the most important. We should heed them, listen to them no matter what. They come from inside. A place where an unknowable demon resides. But just sometimes that demon knows what he is talking about, even if we do not. These promises should be listened to, because the chance is they do mean something.

They mean even more if they are acted upon.

Promises