There have been times in my life where I just stop and I feel hopeless. I doesn't happen in abundance as if I had some official form of depression, but it doesn't happen few enough times for me to ignore it.
Just in case you can't already tell, today my menu consists of a hot cafe depresso and some sort of depressing food I can't think of a glorious pun for.
Back on topic, sometimes when this happens, I have the same thought; "This is why I'm so sad", and then it dawns on me that I've thought the exact same thought earlier on in my life. The reason I'm talking about this is because... well to be honest, I don't really know. I just need to vent. On the internet. Fuck, that's sad.
Anywho, the last time this happened it hit me like a ton of bricks. There I was, just lying down being happy, and then silence set in. Me and silence have never had a good relationship. Silence lets me think and when I think, I over-think. And when I over-think, I get emotional and depressed and angry and confused and a whole bunch of negative things. But this time, something completely horrifying dawned on me.
Let me give you a bit of back-story; All my life I've been a loner, more by choice than of lack of friends. In primary school I never truly had any friends, but I wasn't an outcast (or at least I like to think so). I just never got on with anyone enough intellectually. I figured once high school started, I'd finally meet my social equivalent, sadly, I'd chosen to go to Maroondah. Things didn't turn out so well, and I became disappointed in myself for believing a change of scene would be any different from previous years.
Eventually things worked out, I made friends and stuff, but that isn't what I'm trying to get at. My personality has alway leaned towards the way of 'lonerism', and that's the way I was comfortable. It was my nice big spacious beanbag all to myself. When I tried to get comfortable in some other beanbags, I was always either falling or being pushed off.
So, me being a loner being determined, the thing that scares the hell out of me is the fact that I've lost my original beanbag. I'll never be alone. At least not for a long time. And that scares me. A lot.
Now don't get me wrong (on a side note, the 'don't get me wrong' paragraph seems to be a trending thing, I'll get back to it), having friends is nice. It's better than having no-one at all, but I don't like that there's 'always someone there for me'.
I wanna start over. I want a new life. But I'm already in way too deep. My beanbag's far back in the forgotten distance. I'll probably never see it again.
The thing is, I've let people into my life, and then, after I'm too far into it to turn back, I remember why I didn't want them there. I don't want to hurt them, and knowing someone is just one step loser to being able to hurt, either directly or through chain of causality. I don't want to hurt anyone, and I guess my 'pain' is just my punishment for my idiocy.
Someday, I'd like to feel truly alone again. I'd like to be alone without anyone being hurt, but that'll never happen.
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