An Over Caring, Over Loving, Over Dedicated, Over Sharer With Trust Issues
What better place to over share than the Internet. With all the blogs, posts, reblogs, reposts, and cute adorable animals, I doubt anyone will actually read this. So much noise published, mine is just another voice in the crowd. And mine is barely a hum. I mean- hey, it's not about world peace, our arguing government, international relations, war, equality, religion... the list goes on. Nobody is going to notice, and I doubt anyone will care. But that’s not why I’m doing this.
To say “I’m doing this for me” sounds selfish to my own ears. That I am airing all my dirty laundry and frustrated thoughts to the world, possibly at the expense of other people’s (or possibly my own?) emotions feels like the very heart of narcissism. And I think that is part of my problem. I care too much, love too much, am too dedicated to the people in my life that I worry that my worries will slightly worry them, so I try to keep said worries out of the worry free zone of my “real world, worry free” life. I keep so much of my thoughts pent up inside me, that I sometimes just explode.
I have a very small handful (like two) friends, that I am starting to call when I need help picking up the bloody, dismembered pieces, but I feel like more and more often I am calling them with the negatives, cause unfortunately that seems to be where my life is focused. I don’t want to strain friendships with pain. And talking about the same problems, same people and same issues that I take too long to "digest" is not what they want to hear.
And that is where you come in Internet. Sweet, anonymous, nobody ever gonna read this, place for me to give some relief to my friends and my over crowded mind, Internet. I can complain all I want here, and the chances of people I actually know reading this is so slim, I might actually benefit from shouting into the void.
I am the bubbly one. I am the trusting one, the reliable one, the sweet one. I am the one who picks you up at five am when you call because you said please, I am the one who holds your hand when you cry and doesn’t tell anyone cause your friends call you “Perfect”. I am the one who doesn’t tell our friends when you’re a douche bag, because despite being hurt, I know you are a good person, going through some tough stuff. I am your rock, your wheels, your last minute dinner date, your drinking buddy, your job searcher, your cheerleader, your comfort, and your distraction. I am your friend. Chances are, you have your own version of "me". I do these things because I want to, I love to! It is ingrained into who I am, and frankly my dear, the one way street is starting to hurt.
