Lonely Latenights

It's 1:03AM as I start writing this. I don't know why I'm still awake. I don't know why I'm writing again, or what possessed me to find my blog after two years of absence. I'm not even sure how I remembered the password.

I know nobody will read this (at least not anyone I know). I know writing this won't make me physically any less lonely, but maybe it will psychologically fill some void in me. I just have to believe that the internet is a very big place and given the laws of probability, somebody, someday, somewhere, will probably stumble onto my blog (just as I've randomly stumbled upon other blogs), and maybe they'll read this and it'll echo something within them that I think we all feel from time to time - insignificance.

I'm not talking about the good kind of insignificance that you feel when you gaze up at the beautiful stars and realize how big and wondrous the universe is. I'm talking about the kind of insignificance that starts as a creepy little voice in the back of your mind that tells you nobody will miss you if you kill yourself. That is the kind of insignificant feeling that consumes me now and again. I know the little voice is lying. Even though I lack a lot of friends, I still have family, and enough people that I know and who like me reasonably well and would miss me if I die.

I'm not talking about wanting to kill myself. I don't want to do that (not right now anyway). I don't advocate suicide EVER. If you've Googled suicide and come to my page, I can only hope that you realize these feelings of emptiness and void will pass you by and the world will be right again. I can't tell you it will be easy or that it will happen soon, but staying here is the much better option if you're looking to be happy again. It's a very strange and irrational thought process that depression forces people into. All you or I want is to be happy and to feel loved and important, but somewhere along the way the pain twists that desire into the urge to stop existing altogether. It's wrong and your psyche is lying to you. Please don't listen to it.

Anyway, I just felt obligated to put that blurb in there just in case somebody stumbles onto here looking for guidance (not that I'm a great resource).

How serious is life? This is a question I'm faced with often. On the one hand, it's just life, and it's been around forever and we're all just little blips on a gigantic timeline (see insignificant). On the other, life ends in death and it is the most serious and real thing that any of us will ever encounter. Should we face life like the insignificant and fleeting thing that it is, or should we reconcile with how real and serious it is for each one of us?

Terrible things happen all the time, but I've heard some people tell me that the only way to get through it all is to keep lighthearted and keep laughing. Maybe they're right. Maybe dwelling on the darkness and shame of it all is too much for any soul to bear and maybe that's why I find myself struggling to crawl out of the dark abyss and back into the daily motions that keep me from completely going insane.

Wonderful things happen too, but for some reason I can't shake the feeling that there aren't enough wonderful things to justify the level of disgust I have for the crimes of humanity. Shouldn't all those things that we take for granted (butterfly wings, sunshine, rainbows, etc.) be the norm? Why shouldn't we take those for granted? Am I just too greedy that I want it to be nice all the time, and therefore, when it's nice I kind of expect it to be that way. I mean, I'm happy about nice things, for sure, but they don't demand my attention. They shouldn't demand my attention; I don't have to do anything about them, or worry about them, or try to fix them. Terrible things, however, need to be fixed, and so they draw our focus.

Focus. This is something I think I've lost in my life recently. I'm more than halfway through college with a double major in two subjects that I don't really care much about (accounting and finance, if you must know). I don't regret my majors; they're both very practical business majors and will serve me well in getting a job that pays enough. I just don't have any passion in my life anymore. Then again, it's been so long that I can't remember a time when I had passion for anything. Maybe it's just an illusion. Maybe I'm just not a passionate person by nature and I need to reconcile with that.

I'm so alone and so lost. I don't know where I'm going and I don't know who's going to be there when I arrive. I don't really have goals for my life beyond finishing up my two degrees and passing a myriad of certification exams (CMA, CPA, et al.) to get further credentials in my fields. I'm terrified of not making it, of being a big fuck up. I don't want to be a failure. I don't want to be the girl that "had so much potential" and then never amounted to anything. It's frustrating because I'm not motivated by a desire to achieve or succeed, but instead I'm motivated by the fear of failing, of not being good enough. For what? I don't know. I don't know who I'm so terrified of disappointing. Myself?

I'm not a competitive person. I don't like to compete or race against others. I don't like to try very hard for things because I feel like I lose more when I try than if I can just shrug and say to myself, "well I'm not surprised by that outcome because I really didn't put in much effort." I want to be the best, and I get upset when I'm not automatically the best at something. It makes no sense! Why do I have to be the best when I don't even want to compete or put in effort? I can't possibly be naturally good at everything. Nobody has that much raw talent, and that's okay. I shouldn't punish myself for not being an Olympic gymnast. I just wasn't cut out for that and I didn't have the same opportunities. Not that I want to be an Olympic gymnast, I was just using that as an extreme example, but it applies to everything. I'm not the best artist, but I can sketch okay. I'm not the best pianist, but I can play some music. The best artist trains her hands and mind to put the correct brush strokes on the canvas. The best pianist practices hours every day to improve her skills. I don't do either of those things, so why should I expect myself to be the best at them? I think I just like disappointing myself. I set myself up for failure and then I hate myself for failing. I have unreasonable expectations about who I am or should be.

Sometimes I feel like nothing I know about myself or about my life is true or is going to last. I've changed so much in the last 5 years that nothing feels permanent. I guess it really isn't permanent, but it's hard to get used to that. I look around and I don't have many friends here at college. It's hard for me to make friends in the first place, but then I start to think about the pointlessness of it. If I made friends now, it's not like they'll be my friends in another 5 years. We all will have moved away and spread out again. We'll get different jobs, we'll stop talking. I'm not naive, I know the routine. Maybe if I get married I'll invite some people to my wedding, but I wouldn't consider all those people my friends.

Fuck it all. I know I didn't wrap this up very well, but I need to have a good long therapy session with my pillow, cry it all out, and get some sleep.

Thanksgiving is coming up, and I really should find things to be thankful for.

Goodnight, internet. I hope you aren't as lonely as I am.

For a Favorite Friend

This is a very long and sappy Facebook wall post that I sent to my best friend in the whole world, Colleen Rose Slattery.  I had to chop it up into portions and send it separately because Facebook didn't want to post more than 1,000 characters at a time.  It's the late-night ramblings of a lonely, sad, and nostalgic girl.  It lacks any real structure or direction, but I thought I would put it here anyway because it qualifies as Juby's Jargon. 

The problem with people is that we don't like change. Except, I want things to change, and I don't. I kind of can't wait for college, but I'm scared of what it will do. I'm going nuts. I need more friends, which means more people to talk to, because currently whenever I want to talk to someone, it's either you or... well, mostly just you, and soon you'll be gone. Then I'll be alone, talking to myself, and that's never healthy. Also, you're not a late-night person, so when it's about 11pm and I need to talk to someone, I have to write on your Facebook wall, like I'm doing right now. That's okay, though. I know you have a life, and tomorrow you're going to wake up early to spend quality time with your family and their... vegetables. Then you'll go for a crazy run because you're awesome like that. I have nothing important to say. I'm just saying stuff to give me something to do. Blah, blah, blah, just writing on here so I don't feel so alone.

I feel I will implode. You are great, though. I will miss you very much. I already miss you very much and I just saw you recently. You aren't even gone yet, but you feel so distant. Why is the world such a big place? Why are all of our favorite people so far away? Across the state, across the country, across the continent, across the ocean, across the great big world... I've seen a bit of that world, and now I don't know where I belong anymore. When we were little, I used to think that you lived sooo far away from me. A whole hour's ride in a car. Funny how an hour seemed like such a long time... I only saw you about once a month, if that often. I remember there were times when we went more than a month without calling or talking to each other, but I always felt like I knew we'd still be friends and we still existed for each other, even if we weren't in constant communication.

When you leave for Texas, I will treasure those days when we were young and you were ultra-competitive and liked to beat me at everything. I'll remember the fights we had and how foolish we were. I'll remember how I was always so jealous of you, your life, your family, your good-looks, your athletics, and the fact that you'd spend so much time with other friends (and the fact that you HAD that many other friends). Yes, I'll admit, I coveted your friendship. Sometimes I still do. I'll remember the King Gregory fight, the Alabama Trip (Eureka!), the Great Brownie Battle of 1.5 ratios times 2/3rds of a cup, using Matt as the Designated Dancer at prom, our failed attempt at becoming blood sisters on New Years that night...

I'll remember the funny sayings we had, all the funny things we did and promised we'd remember, but in the end the fact that we forgot was just as funny as whatever had happened in the first place. Do you remember being 10 years old and how we used to talk about growing up and going to college and we thought it was going to take FOREVER? I thought we'd never get here. Now it seems it went so quickly. I know it sounds cliché, but I don't want to grow up. I want to lie on the trampoline with you again at night and stare at the stars and talk about where we'll be in 10 years. I want to talk to you about the boys we liked, the boys we currently like, the boys we will like, and the boys we think we'll probably end up with. I remember how we used to talk about buying houses next to each other so that when we grew up our kids could play and become best friends like us.

Truth is; I know that over the next few years we'll grow distant. We'll have separate lives, very far away from each other, doing separate things. We might end up in different countries. You might even get a new best friend, but I'm okay with that. We'll always have our childhood and our goofy, quirky memories that nobody else can ever understand. We know what it's like to evolve and change together. New people in our lives from now on will only see the more mature version that we've become, but I will know how you were, who you were, and what you've grown to appreciate that you didn't before. Maybe someday we'll stop talking, and then one day we'll look back and say, "Oh, yeah! I remember that girl! She was my best friend..." We'll have stories to tell our children and our grandchildren.

Just know that wherever you are and whatever you're doing, I will be with you in mind, heart, and spirit; laughing with you, crying with you... acting absolutely immature and ridiculous with you just so that we feel better... I love you, my gorgeous soul-sister. Take care at Dallas and live it up without me! :)