A Writer's Block

another vent

I think I kinda realized it. I don't seem to open up how I truly feel to people, or I feel like I don't really want to get close to other people. I guess that's why it makes me so hard to socialize and anxious. I'm scared. I'm really just scared to see people leave me for who I am again. I am really just scared to be controlled because of how much of a pushover I may be at times. I'm also really scared that once they know deeper about me, I will never live up to their expectations. It's why I don't really understand why my parents always tell me to adjust. That's pretty much that thing I've always done, to adjust who I truly am, because no one really understands me, or see me for who I am. I'm probably just valued for what I can do, and not who I am after all.  

That's probably why I am such a people pleaser, and have those attention seeker vibes online. I can act like I'm this tough and cool pretentious fuck, like using memes as part of my speech. I even had a phase where I was angry, mad and rude. Actually, I do act that way. I'm often gonna be acting as if I am horny, when in reality, I'm pretty much scared of the deed actually being done to me, despite finding the subject regarding kinks as interesting. 

There's also the fact I have codependent tendencies. I really hate myself for that. Sometimes I don't know if I am really actually the one who is in the right. But I think distancing myself from others is the right thing to do, I don't want others or me to get hurt. It's the best way to protect my ego, and themselves. 

 I was really lonely ever since I was a child. To learn that when I was young, no one wanted to talk to me because of how they perceived me. I think maybe my friends are just probably there out of pity, or because they know me from my brother. I'm pretty sure, they'd like my brother more than me. 

I don't get why my online friend thinks I am the one who has more friends than my brother. I guess at least during the times whenever I think he hates me, it must be really evident how my issues were, and I really appreciate that he still sticks by. 

But like, sometimes, I don't really know. I don't really know what a friend actually is anymore, or if my friends actually like me. I'm pretty sure I'm just annoying in their eyes. And my batchmates this college probably think I'm just a proud girl who thinks I'm better than everyone. Those who left me think I'm always negative, and just a total bad vibe. My ex thinks I'm probably just a naive girl who he can emotionally break when given the chance. My parents, I don't know. I don't think they can understand me truly. Kinda ironic given my mom is psychologist. and yet I couldn't truly be truthful. My online friends think I'm just a nobody or pretty much associate me with the things I am exclusively known for. And that's pretty much how I think people perceive me. How I perceive myself? Sometimes, I don't really know anymore. 

But sometimes, instead of being the one listening, I wish I was the one who just rambles on and on. And stuff. But no, no matter how much of a romanticist I may be, I think that can never happen. The world runs on logic, and on "it is what it is", rather than these emotions and ideals that I have. It'd be too selfish to think that world revolves around you after all, yet I'm just so tired of myself sometimes, trying to find an intrinsic place in a world that just isn't for me. I hate myself for always thinking about what other think. I hate myself for conditioning myself with that shame ever since I was a kid. I really wish I didn't think of what others thought about me. I just really wish I can understand myself, and love myself, and have people who actually see me as me. But why am I even expecting that when I don't even know who I truly am without anyone else, and without the things that I like?

I don't think I can ever get these out of my own mouth or to someone directly. This book is pretty much my personal diary, hence I really just write here about my impulsive problems, and what I feel at the spur of the moment.