forever blueming

#spilled ink (all poems/writing) · #excerpt from a book i'll never write (romantic, sappy) · #raw (mental health) · #thoughts (personal reflecting, non-poetic)

music listening activity: last.fm

Without trying so hard to be seen

Letting myself be who I am,

Without filtering what I mean

Waiting for people to notice me,

Being cautious, reading signs

Pretending that I’m fine alone,

In a world that fuels my avoidance, it’s nice to have somebody who doesn’t make me want to run.

People I idealized being closer to

Not in a safety way, but rather for the sake of keeping the peace and being mindful on how that carries over into my both my dad’s own physical health and mom’s mental health.

I hate how I have to let the anger have its way, even though it’s so inconsiderate to talk to me like that, for the sake of things not getting worse.

When I’m not even doing anything harmful to anyone else. I’m just existing, trying to survive.

When I was only praised when I did my best

Trying was never good enough,

It was never enough to just exist

So when life had knocked me off my feet,

At my lowest of lows

Of course I learned to be ashamed,

To hide away, so nobody would know

I want so badly to exist,

Without performance, without conditions

To just be happy that I’m alive,

Being numb

Not making things worse

And then moments pass by

Playing the words back on repeat

Eyes start to water, my nose starts to sting

I don’t want to cry

I don’t want to admit that I’m hurt

I don’t want to be so affected by somebody so willing

It’s hard enough even making friends or friendly company- but having to split up between groups because of drama or people not getting along really gets in my head about where do I really belong.

It makes me feel guilty because I would hate if somebody felt that way about me. But they just come off as … so judgmental. Falsely supportive. Using blunt as a mask for mean.

But I don’t think that’s totally the case. They have good intention and don’t want to seem that way. But I can’t help but feel so bothered by being in the same spaces as them, tired of feeling offended or unsafe or too sensitive,

As a result, being seen as not as likeable or preferred company. Unable to connect with people or unwilling to, so maybe they feel like they’re better off without me.

And I know it’s not completely in my head because I’ve heard it echoed back at me. “Well, no offense, but you’re never here.” “It’s not like you’re interested in being close to us.”

I guess there’s some truth to it but it’s not like I don’t care. I just don’t know how to offer up any more than me. I don’t feel safe to.

Sometimes I feel like I’m so hyper aware of somebody else getting annoyed at another for oversharing or trauma dumping or talking too much. For being self-centered, for their kind of humor, for getting offended.

And I … I don’t know how to exist among that. I’m trying hard to be liked. And at the very least, I know I’m not doing any of those “offenses.” But it bites me back because now I’m not sharing at all, being unable to connect to, forgettable, foreign, and unwelcome.