I like to express myself because I’m an expressive person. I’m not ever the person who is going to hold things in and sit quietly once you’ve pissed me off/hurt my feelings. Usually this hasn’t been an issue for me but lately it seems that it is and I don’t quite understand why. So I’m blogging out my feelings. This is one of those posts that is less focused on grammatically correct sentences and trying to get page views for my witty ramblings and more focused on my feelings at this very moment. I am admittedly dramatic, I’m needy, attention starved, have horrible self esteem, I complain a lot, I’m dark and twisty, gloom and doom, a perfect combination of Meredith and Christina (for you Grey’s Anatomy fans), and this is all mixed together with a little bit of crazy. Not Snapped crazy but insecure, irrational, delusional at times…crazy. I accept this, I admit this, I tell anyone who will listen this and SO when I am always a little bit confused when people are surprised by this or call me Debbie Downer or expect me to just brush things off my shoulder. I’m not a brush things off my shoulder kind of person. I love hard, I fight hard, I cry hard, I live life in a dramatic way and I don’t know how to be any other way. I rant, I throw shade, I’m occasionally witty, I do what I want, I whine, I complain, that’s just me but that doesn’t mean that I don’t have real feelings or I’m not a real person. I do. I am. And though I admit that I am entertainment for a lot of my friends/followers (we all love a good train wreck) that doesn’t mean that I always have to be on. Not everything is a joke. Not everything is funny. There are times when I am legitimately sad and I would appreciate a bit of empathy. And yes, I’m aware of the irony that I myself, have almost zero empathy to give. However, one has to ask themselves why that is. I know I’m starved for attention and I know I’m a lot to handle but there are times, real legitimate times when I just need someone to care. Someone to remind me that I’m remarkable in some way, even if it’s just to them. Someone to tell me that I’m important to them. That I’m special. That despite all the many flaws I think I have, I’m lovable I just need someone to tell me that they care. I need a hug. I need a smile. I need a message saying you’re my favorite person or something and I don’t feel like I get that. I get jokes. I get rude comments wrapped in humor and passed off as good-natured fun. I get people telling me to get over it. I get people telling me that I’m dramatic. I get people telling me that I’m like this all the time so my feelings don’t matter. I get a lot of things but no genuine empathy or sympathy. So pardon me while I have a moment. Pardon me while I wallow in my dark and twisty universe. There are real times when I actually feel that I am completely alone. That no one actually likes me, the real me. I have friends. I have a lot of followers. I have people who think I’m funny and fun but it’s like they only like me when I’m on and I can’t always be that way. And unless you’ve ever really felt like this I don’t think you can even begin to understand it. Still, this is life. And it is what it is. So I suppose at some point I should just let it go. Still, it’s my blog so I”ll
cry write if I want to.