I think there’s a superwoman in my head.
Really, I do. I think she takes charge and gets stuff done and pushes forward. I think my ideas come from her, my grit comes from her, my strength comes from her.
I think she gets defeated sometimes. I think she goes to battle with the other voices and forces in my head and she looses. Before I know it, she’s buried beneath the debris of the fight and I can’t find her anywhere.
It’s in these moments (or days or weeks) that I’m at a loss. It’s when I find myself taking every possible minute to myself. When I find myself giving all that I can to my job but that’s almost nothing. It’s these moments that I find myself desperately trying to figure out what to do, searching things on the internet like “how to deal with depression at work” and “should you tell your boss you’re depressed.” It’s when I look up therapists in the local area, only to come to the conclusion that I can’t get myself to spend that much money.
I’m tired and I’m sad. This day is no where near over and I can’t find superwoman.
Change is inevitable. I mean, clearly.
You know what else is inevitable? Strangers. Meeting new people is just a part of life. Within the next month, I’m going to be meeting a lot of new people. And not only that, but I’m going to have to be with them, work with them, and do life with them.
Part of me is excited. This is often drowned out by everything else, but I actually love meeting new people. I love making new friends. I love getting to know people. I love that stage of a friendship where you can literally just ask each other questions for hours. I love figuring people out. Observing them. Learning what makes them tick, what makes them light up. Goodness. It’s so silly. I get almost… Giddy just thinking about it! People are fascinating.
There’s another part of me that’s nervous. The more normal part of me. I worry that I won’t fit in with these new groups of people. Worried that they won’t like me. Worried that they’ll think I’m someone I’m not. Worried that they won’t even see me. Worried that I’ll think I’m making new friends and then something will happen that makes me feel completely rejected.
I’m also worried that I won’t be who I want to be. That the silent me will come out. That I won’t like them. Or that I will like them so much that I’ll be intimated by them and not be able to talk. I’m worried that I will want to be a part of them and they will not want to include me. Or worse, that I’ll just think they won’t want to include me so I’ll hold myself back. And that just sucks. I just hate it because, if I get to that point, I will get used to that and then I won’t change.
I just don’t make friends as easy as most people. Sometimes, I can. Absolutely. Sometimes, I’m a crazy person and I can meet a new group of people and talk freely and I really like that person. She is very carefree and actually has a lot of fun. But, that part of me rarely come out.
I think that’s the worst thing. Going to meet a new group of people and not knowing which side of me will come out.
I guess I should not have been excited about the amount of work that I’ve accomplished this weekend, not to mention that it was on top of a million other things that I had to do.
I suppose I shouldn’t have expected you to be excited for me, let alone say anything positive. In fact, I probably should’ve expected your bitter sarcasm and rude comment. That look of annoyance and slight disdain in your eyes? I should have known that was coming.
I should have realized that, after four years of making excuses for you, you’ll probably never change. I should come to terms with the fact that the person I use to see you as was only a figment of my naive imagination and a longing to see only the good in people.
The problem is that you are a real person. I can’t blame your horrible attitude on you being in your own world or up in the clouds or in the possibility that you don’t think like a regular human because I know you. I know how down to earth you are and I know the way you think. So the problem comes down to the fact that you are simply a self righteous, self entitled, mean person. And that’s sad to me.
And, as bad as this sounds, I almost hope you’re going through something in your life right now that I know nothing about. Maybe then you would have some resemblance of an excuse for the way that you have been treating those around you lately (because we both know that I am not the only person you have been treating horribly).
So my mistake for expecting better from you and for being disappointed.
But it will be your mistake if, once I leave here, you ever have the audacity to approach me as if nothing bad ever happened between us.
And that’s why the blog is called Everything. Because it’s everything I can’t say outloud.