In a way, I wish I remained anonymous. Then I'd be able to really write. There are things I can't just talk about on here. I can't really vent about my jobs or I could possibly be fired. I can't release frustrations I get from my boyfriend, his exs, or even my closest friends. I'm not perfect and neither are my relationships and although I love those near and dear to me I hate feeling like... I'm trapped in a way. I don't want to hurt your feelings. I don't want to give an ex of mine or my boyfriend's the satisfaction of knowing that they've hurt or frustrated me in some way. I'm sick of creating this "perfect" me so I can conform to the social norms. I'm tired of spending almost an HOUR of MY day getting pretty for YOU. I'm tired of "trying" to get into the colleges YOU want me to get into. So I can fall into some profession YOU can brag about. I love you. Everything you've done for me. But can you stop making me feel so worthless when I CANT reach that bar you've set for me?? I don't want to lie to myself anymore. I can't tell you of my frustrations with certain women... girls I have to remain on good terms with, for everyone's sake. It all builds up inside. And I can't say anything about it. I can't lower myself to their level. I'm tired of knowing that although I can have the most amazing conversations with you... any of you... that because of your anatomy... and when everything boils down to it... I'm still just an object. I'm tired of being afraid that If I open up and say what's really wrong, that it's going to change things for the worse. I'm tired of caring so damn much about everyone else's feelings. I'm tired of being happy brit. nice brit. Full of smiles and ears and hugs for all YOUR problems. I wish I could say: DON'T FUCKING TALKING TO ME YOU DISGUSTING EXCUSE FOR A HUMAN. I wish I could just be me. "Weird" normal me. I've almost reached my limit here. You know it does hurt when you make fun of me and tell me i'm strange because you can't understand why I don't want to be just like you. I can't be so nice forever. I can't keep going up... there's got to be some ceiling I'll eventually reach. And I'm afraid of what might happen when I do...
I'm tired of knowing everyone's weakness. Of being trusted never to approach it. Never to push their buttons... while they'll carelessly brush over mine. Bumping into me. Pushing me.
And the funny part is... anyone I really WANT to read this...well... they all have better things to do.
Et tu, Brute?
3 weeks ago