I don't know how much longer I want to keep posting here. See, this is just another one of my safe actions. I'm in the comfort of my own home, and writing to people that I don't have to face.
I just realized something last night. I saw that movie "The Raven." I remember when I was in middle school, and Edgar Allan Poe was my favorite author. So, I looked at the poem online, and didn't really understand it. I thought to myself, "How could I have understood this when I was 13??" The style of the language is old, I just don't understand it very much now, but remember enjoying reading his stories and poems so much when I was young. I mean, they absorbed me, and that was so enjoyable for me. I also loved Dorothy Parker, but recently checked out a book of her stories and poems from the library, and didn't understand/enjoy them much either. Anyway, I ended up "googling" what the Raven was about (he would've been so disappointed in our time).......although I learned that there is no definite answer as to the meaning behind it. It helped though to read smart people's interpretations, and I understood it a little better. But, then I started thinking more. I think my intelligence level has dropped steadily over the last 2 decades. I really think I was much smarter when I was a kid. My thoughts went further on to say to me that I'm also a fraud. I've had people tell me, "You're too deep. You're too smart. You're too nice." I believed them, and thought of myself that way too. Now, I think I'm too arrogant and conceited, and have lived my life superficially (skimming the surface, not getting deeply involved.) I haven't really lived, but I have the nerve to call other people superficial. I try not to make mistakes, mainly because I feel like I can't afford to. If I had made the mistake of having a kid, I'd be a single mom, struggling even more than I am now, but at least I'd be involved in LIFE. I was too careful to not have kids though because I have this belief that I'm not emotionally healthy enough to "hold onto" the father. Wait, that's a lie because I once thought I was pregnant, and took some herbs to induce my period, just in case........so I am not really that careful, as in prevention, maybe just damage control. Maybe I feel I am unable to be loved, and the father of my kid would leave to find a woman he could love. I really don't want to struggle like my mom did. I also am a persistent "doublechecker." We had 2 house fires when I was little. Once I had to get out of bed in the middle of the night and go to my mom's house because I had a scary feeling she left the stove on or something. It's not OCD, but I chronically worry. I think last night I realized that I'm too fearful to LIVE and make mistakes, and now at the age of 30 I am BORED. I have nothing to do that I enjoy, and no reason to live. Nothing excites me anymore, and if it does, it lasts only a few minutes. I am fearful of other things that people commonly do as adults. College, work, marriage, owning a home. I think I just wanted to stay a kid. Even though my grandma said my brother and I had difficult childhoods, I didn't know the difference, and now that I've experience adulthood, I feel my childhood was fun. Maybe just because it's fun to be a kid because everything you experience is for the first time. In the last 12 years, I haven't accomplished a single thing. I guess I made one mistake, and now am in student loan debt. I was too scared to finish the expensive program I enrolled in. Oh yeah, and I'm not that nice either. I'm often saying how much I hate people. I hate this whole holiday shopping thing, for example. I wish people wouldn't "buy" into it because I feel it's destroying the original meaning of the holidays..............but they keep on following along like a herd of animals. I went into a store late yesterday (with the BF to return stuff for $$,) and I thought how rude and insane everyone is. Supposedly, we're in a recession, but everyone is in a spending frenzy, ripping things off the shelves and throwing them on the floor. Doesn't make sense to me. But, if I spoke up about it, I'd alienate myself even more because I'm the weirdo. People would call me a "hater." I think they might be right too. I'm jealous because I can't join in. Anyway, I'm just an average, ordinary person. I'm not warm and loving, and unnecessarily critical. I have no right to talk about anything. Maybe I've always known that, and that's why I'm a quiet, shy girl.