I don't ever update this blog now that I have a tumblr. But I need to get this out because I can't talk to any of my friends about this and tumblr is just far too public, so here I am. This post is for myself and I don't expect nor do I really want people to read this.
I sit here tonight, alone. Thinking about my life, I know that I have a wonderful family and great friends and I'm getting a good education, and so on and so forth. But I am not happy. I'm always worrying about something whether it be my health, how long I'm going to live for, school, my friends and whether or not I've missed out on something, or one of my biggest fears, whether or not I'm going to ever fall in love.
It's so hard sometimes being friends with my friends. It stresses me out, and I hate it because I do love them and they are great friends. But it takes effort. I feel like I can't ever just go somewhere without one of them without questioning wether or not I'm going to come back and they'll have created this new sort of bond. If I never had to worry about missing out on shit or one friend liking another more than me, then I think part of my life would be easier. But, I don't know if that will ever happen.
I feel like there is this barrier that I have between my friends and myself. Often, I feel like they don't come to me to talk to or to vent or whatever because I don't do certain things or they have done things that I can't relate to or maybe, that I'm just not as fun. And it kills me, because there's nothing more that I'd want than to have a care-free life. To have that pleasure of not worrying would be the greatest thing in the world.
What's worse is that I won't ever be that way. I am a people-pleaser. Making people happy usually makes me happy, and it has become this sort of thing where I don't even consider my happiness unless I have made sure that my friends are satisfied. I give-in all of the time. And right now I think all of this anger and repressed emotion is just slowly rising to the surface. But what can I do about it? Nothing. Because if I showed how angry I was to people, if I got in fights with my friends as much as I could, then I would not be happy. Fighting is one of my least-favorite "activities" ever because it means that someone will probably end up being unhappy with me and I don't want that. I don't mind fighting with people who I care little about or people who I know will love me unconditionally. But when it comes to my friends, I just can't bare it.
I was born a worrier and while people make fun of me for it, for worrying too much or being too much of a "mom," I can't help it. They get annoyed by it, I can tell. When I say something that they don't want to hear or when I ask too many questions about something because I'm unsure about it or concerned...What they don't know is that being this way is a curse. It's one of the worst attributes of my personality. And it sucks because it's like a disease, you can't get rid of it as much as you would love to. I am this open-minded, passionate being stuck in the body of an introverted worry-wart. I don't know how to deal with it anymore. As time goes by, I progressively worry more and more. And it gets harder to handle being around people who seem so happy, people who have someone to love and that have someone loving them back.
I'm scared. I see all of these different types of people and I wonder what it is about me that makes me un-lovable or even un-likable. It's funny, I've spent my whole life making sure other people are happy and just as I start to realize that it's making my life harder, it's already at that point where I can't just fix things. If I die young and alone or old and alone, it will just be so ironic. Being alone, it's the first thing I worry about, preventing it consumes my life, and how terrible would it be if that were my downfall?
I think that's been said at least a few times on here before.
The thing is, I've had a sort of revelation in a sense. Maybe the deal with me is that I'll spend my whole life thinking I'm sick and I have all these diseases, and as a result, I will not have lived fully because I will have spent most of my time worrying about being sick. And I'll die unsatisfied with my life, in perfect health.
Or maybe irony will strike and I'll die of a disease or cancer or something that could have been prevented but wasn't, just because I was trying to hide my Hypochondria.
I was reading some random blog post about a guy explaining his vasectomy and reasons for doing so, which was mostly to save our earth, and a thought crossed my mind.
What if our job, or test really, on earth is to see whether or not we can preserve this earth. If earth is viewed as something precious that God created, maybe our biggest test here is to do as much as we can to not fuck it up while we are living. Crazy thought, maybe. But it's still a thought.