Once upon a time, I had a blog (not this one. duh) and I wrote some very real, raw stuff on there. And most of it was not amusing. People liked my candor and it gave me an outlet to vent. To say to the interwebz “Hey, I’m real. This is who I am!”
I stopped that blog because, frankly, it was a downer. And as you can see, I took some time off from that, and xojmo was born. Or reborn. Depending on how you look at it.
But to be honest (and I promise after this post I’ll go back to talking about boobs, squirts and ketchup), nothing much has changed.
I’ve traveled down many different roads. Opened (and closed) so many doors. Yet, everything leads me further into the labyrinth of what I guess is what my life has been destined to become. A clusterfuck of emotions and failures and dusting myself off and getting back up.
And for what?
That is the answer that alludes me. Always.
I have been tested, and prodded, and probed and mostly everything else except electroshock possibly. Turns out I have a fairly high IQ. And I have a disorder. Not bipolar nor multiple personality disorder. But another, which I won’t name here because it’s truly not all that exciting. But that disorder, as I found out, is what makes me feel things so deeply. So amplified and exemplified. Fear, sadness, anxiety, worry, and sometimes happiness…were just so much more intense than others. I used to sob, uncontrollably at times, over things that people found me incredulous. “Get over it. Stop being so dramatic.” Heard those a lot. And yet I cried. Real tears, you know the ones that literally jump out of your eyes because they cannot be contained. And every tear was real and a symbol of how much I hurt. I felt like I failed miserably at life. At love.
Luckily, having found out about said issue, I was given specific treatment and of course medication and I can honestly tell you that life has been different the past few months. Don’t cry really. The constant ruminating thoughts have been quelled. I feel almost normal. Whatever that is. (The opposite of how I usually felt, I guess)
But I can tell you one thing: I mourn the loss of friendships and relationships I’ve had. Even brief ones. Whether it was familial, friends, a husband, a boyfriend, a crush…anything. I mourn those. And to my enemies, and I know I have some – don’t hate me. I would rather you pity me. Literally. You’re probably living a life I would give anything for. You see, those roads and doors…dead ends. It’s hard to stay hopeful and open (to anything and everything) when you open yourself up, rather, when I open myself up to others, to life, to experiences…and they are, simply put, let downs.
The reason why I wanted to write this, well I guess there are a few reasons, one of course being that writing is how I express myself the best, and it’s an outlet for me. But another reason I wrote this….I cried on my way home tonight. Over something insignificant really. And like I said, I don’t really cry anymore. Sat in my car, in the dark and cried. Boogie nosed, I climbed the stairs in my fancy apartment building (that should make me happy right? Nope) hoping to shuffle to my home without being noticed. As I rounded the corner a gentleman passed me, and I looked down, holding my fist up to my face like I was coughing or something. And as we passed he must’ve sensed something, because he turned around and asked “Are you okay?”
I looked him in the eyes, and say what I always say, “Oh yeah. I’m fine. Really. Thank you.” He nodded and gave me that look, that ‘I don’t believe you but okay’ look and it was over. But I looked him in the eyes, and with the tears welling up in my eyes, I smiled at him. You see, I’ve become an expert at saying “Yeah I’m fine. I’ll be fine.” Because in all honesty, when I tell people “I am not okay. Help me. Help me Help me!” Nothing changes. There is nothing they can do to help me.
I try to help myself. I do. I try. But I do wonder, what is it all about? I am a shell of who I once was (due to a betrayal and a hell of a divorce) and a mere shadow of who I should be.
Alas, the crying has stopped and I’m ready to sleep the night away. Escape. Until tomorrow…
Many thanks to my “fans” (I really do flatter myself sometimes!) who enjoy my usual funny rants – for putting up with this, well, whatever this is. A confession. A reality check. Or just another xojmo post.
I promise I will go back to green pudding and Disney dreams!! Let’s just forget this every happened.
I’m fine. Really.