| Diary of a Neurotic | ||||||
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February 02, 2004 (Part 1) WARNING: Long, boring, embarrassing entry…please do not read if you are feeling particularly happy or critical. 10th Sept 1996 (Tuesday) Dear Diary I'm going to have a pretty long weekend and it’s good because I need to sort things out. It’s weird how I always turn to this lifeless object when nothing goes right. I used to think that it was dumb to write a diary but as I have turned my back to my friends my only hope to share something is this OBJECT. At least I have the comfort that it’ll never walk away from me and I can force it to stay. I don’t know what’s wrong with me? I get tired of things so quickly. Many times I catch myself cursing my friend and other times getting irritated by her. But Im not complaining because I know I have to sacrifice. Besides im strong enough to go on without anybody’s help so if she left or something it would not be the end of the world. Ever since college started I promised myself that I’d stay aloof and keep to myself…I guess by now that is pretty much part of my personality. I’ve stopped complaining and whining and that’s the reason I keep my problems to myself. It’s actually dumb that I’ve immuned myself of all feelings…I don’t feel pain, depression, jealousy…all the things I used to have in the past years. It’s like anything can happen and I don’t give a fuck about it. I’ve become so good at numbing myself that I am amazed. You know if I keep on doing this to myself pretty soon I’ll be a dead body. Anything can pass through and yet I’d feel nothing. I suddenly feel stranded as if someone has left me in a desert and I'm alone and lost. I got a letter from my best friend which was disappointingly brief. No special news. It’s weird that the day she left I didn’t even cry and make a fuss over it. I guess I’m growing up huh! A few months back I would have stayed depressed forever. But my past is past and I just like to enjoy it not cry over it. The past is a faded memory growing sweeter every passing day. I never was very ambitious and I never asked for too much. The way life treated me changed me totally. I guess somehow I’ve learnt to let go, to give in to destiny. Left myself at the hands of time. At least if anything goes wrong I might blame someone else? But I still need someone to share …to let the real me come out. Even though sometimes I talk shit but what’s the use of speaking golden words when there’s no one who can listen. It seems like a long time I shared a good true laugh…you know hearty laugh. Sometimes you want to talk about your dreams, desires, disappointments…but anyway. Its ironic how im blessed with humor…I can make an asshole laugh but the only person I can’t make happy is me. It’s pretty neat how I smile thousands of times just out of my habit not because I truly feel happy. I’ve heard so many people laugh all the time but I’ve forgotten how to laugh myself. I just cannot pinpoint what gave rise to all the changes but life did take away from me something and I guess I’ve never been the same again. There’s nothing more to say just this empty and dull feeling. That was written 8 years back….when I was 16 and life is supposed to be the best that it can ever get. I think I held onto this diary full of similar depressing entries because of that narcissist devil that lurks inside all of us. The first few entries put me into fits of laughter at the sheer childishness, innocence and drama of little things. As I was nearing the end it wasn’t funny anymore… I felt like I was still the 16 year old…there was a pattern…familiar feelings, emotions and that annoying depressed creature that has permanent free residence in my brain. If I had written religiously from the last entry of the 8 year old diary till now....the summary would probably be what’s at the beginning. Depressed, sad, annoyed…sometimes for a reason and sometimes without…masking inner battles with humor, smiles and ridiculous stories. Its sad to know I've spent the best years of my life this way, its sad that I’ve never talked opening about things that DO matter and saddest that I haven’t changed a bit....only this time confessing on a public forum. What issues can a teenager have to hate herself and life? Where the hell did this self protection mechanism come from? Why this perfect act of LIVING? As much as I hate being this way and I try to…NOT be this way…it just doesn’t happen. It’s too automatic and I always hunt for the cause rather than remedies. I’m too tired but I had to put this down before I chicken out…until I'm publicly embarrassed about how insane I am…I’ll never snap out of it…More on this tomorrow. (1:37 AM) ~`~
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