I know I cut up the week with such joy and elation like, two days ago, but these are feelings I think I’d better write out before I lose some much-needed sleep over it. I guess this is the really sad burning-out of the Week, since I’ve had such an “eventful” week and only the Universe can judge that it needs to even out the score. Well. At least it happens now, and not any time later that I should be alarmed about. Ha.
I’m tired of caring too much about what other people think of me, and caring too much about what they think, period. I’m tired of caring about how I look to others but I can’t seem to stop. Have I actually gotten so used to fictional characters that I’ve finally blurred the line at what’s real and will actually affect real people with real feelings? Am I, looking at myself, right now, just imagining this person that I want myself to be, imagining an individual that nobody else sees but me, and I think I’m actually living out the life I want and the impression I want to show to other people, but in actuality I’m actually the polar opposite of what I want to happen?
Existential crisis like woah.
I’m tired of trying to play God, even though it’s only now that I’ve very much realized that I have been doing so, and trying to get things done the way I want it to and for trying to make things fall into place and for feeling the way I feel when I realize what I’ve done after. It hurts, and I hate myself, and curses for me forgetting my place and doing it over and over and over again anyway.
My intentions are good, I suppose. At least, from what I see from my own point of view and from what I want to happen. It’s just that I forget that I am not one to order around the world as I please. I never was.
Can’t blame the Universe for fucking me up, can’t really blame anyone but myself. I just need to stop caring, and I need to stop sad-Tweeting and overthinking and overdoing things that I’m in no place to overdo, anyway.
I aim to please, and probably seeing people so happy gives me such a kick that it’s taking a toll on what I want for myself. Not that I’m saying I should stop trying making other people happy, but overthinking is just really unhealthy, and I know that.
Oh, and I should stop being so fucking apologetic about everything. Am I just overthinking about my perception of myself seeming so “pa-cute” that it gets annoying and sickening just thinking about the hours that I’m awake, and of the things I probably imprinted to anyone I was talking to, of what a fucking weirdo this girl turned out to be for saying this instead of that, for acting this way when she should’ve acted that way, and for overthinking, overthinking, overthinking.
I can’t stop beating myself up about such insignificant things when they have no real meaning in, what, a year, except to come back to haunt me while I’m in the shower or out grocery shopping and I have a slight, voluntary seizure about remembering that one thing I did before that make me look like a total idiot, while somewhere far away the person you think about had forgotten this long-lost mistake as soon as you committed it.
Value the people who take you as you are and cherish what you have of them. Just stop trying so hard, Pat, and go with the flow, before you get so sick of doing these things to yourself that it begins to show?
You’re messed up, but why mope about it when you can work on it and never. Do it. Again.
In case the people I’m thinking about right now as I write this read this, please be aware that I know that I have a “problem”, although I know I might be problematizing this problem way too much, and now I’m problematizing the problematization of this problem already and there may be no problem at all, and I’m just so messed up, and is this what school does to me? I don’t know. This too shall pass.
The things I think about before Christmas, and the Absolutely Imminent End of the World.