The Search

I’ve been thinking a lot lately, as I haven’t planned much else to do this week besides do my normal exercise routines to be sure I don’t go spiraling down into depression after the recent events of the breakup and my friend’s suicide. Yeah, lots. So I’ve been a hermit as of late. Mostly because I don’t really want to see anyone. I feel fake. I don’t want to put on the mask just to try to fit into society. I don’t even know if my friends even know who I am. I don’t even know. But now it just feels like I put on a suit and pretend whenever I’m around anyone. I can’t find peace anywhere. It’s simply foreign to me right now, and I don’t want to pretend right now that I enjoy the company of others. 

To be quite honest, I’m tired of who I created myself to be. It doesn’t seem like the current one is going to do anything for me and who I strive to become. I have made myself small and unassuming because I thought that’s what I needed to fit into society. Hell, that was the only thing that mattered to me was fitting into society. I created an entirely different persona because ultimately I rejected myself. I reject every aspect of me because so many others did. If they all reject me, then why should I accept myself? I remember being rejected so often from people that I wanted to be with in any respect, but none of them accepted me as a person when I offered myself. I’m damaged. Broken. Insane. 

It’s not all my fault. The abuse, the resulting anxiety, the ADHD…. During my teenage years when all I wanted to do was express myself and forbidden to do so. Fitting in was all that mattered. Being accepted was all that mattered because so many others forsake me… including my own family. If my own flesh and blood beat me down so cruelly and violently, how the hell could I look into the mirror, with my own addictions and love the bruises and the scars that marked my face, my arms, my soul? How could I ever find that acceptance of myself when everyone else around me forsake me? How can I find peace when this mentality of rejection was the only thing I have ever known? 

Oh the Victim in me sings so loudly. I have been listening to this song for ages, and I guess I have grown weary of the same tempo and tilted rhythm that offers no gaiety in its words. But it’s one of the few songs I know.   

Such as the one above? Why have so many rejected me? I realize that I am flawed, but there are so many others who reject themselves, who don’t love themselves, are flawed and painted in their own imperfections, and here I stand, artless and faithless, yet with nothing to show for the many years I have already been on this earth?  

Why must I always pay the Victim? Why can’t I play another part? Why can’t I play the part of the hero — the selfless yet self loathing hero that manage to find someone, somewhere they belong? Why must I be type casted in this role constantly? There are others that get the role of the Lover, the Sidekick, the Villain…. Why must I be the Victim? Why must I watch others take the roles I would much rather have? Why do I choose to stay in this role? I am always blaming myself for staying here despite my wishes for other roles. It’s my fault that I am still here because I can’t accept myself.
What a load of shit. There are people that play the Lover and hate themselves.
There are people that play multiple roles and here I am stuck in this and continuing this dreadful cycle of blame, guilt, repeat. Why can I not escape? Why can I not save myself? For the love of the Gods, why can’t I get out of this room? All I ask is that I be set free from my own prison that I sent myself for a crime that is… pointless. Baseless. Unfounded. I didn’t do anything wrong.
I realize I’m a monster. But whatever I did wasn’t me. Or whatever I thought I did. I may have lied. I may have conned. I may have stolen things that weren’t mine. I may have… hurt others in ways that… But hasn’t everyone? Why do I take a martyrous punishment for myself when others do not? Why do I bestow this “gift” of punishment as if it offers some sort of reprieve from my past crimes? Was I not violated? Was I — am I — myself not tortured by the demons in my mind? Is that not punishment enough? I don’t deserve all this. I don’t deserve the continued punishment of crimes that were done years and years go. Or even pay for those sins that I did not even commit. There is no beauty in this suffering, and no one is noticing it. No one is rewarding it. So what am I doing this for? There is no reason for my own suffering. I have paid for everything. I have paid with my flesh, my mind, and my soul. I am missing pieces from each, but those I will never have back. I will always carry those scars and memories. I can’t run away from them and I will always gaze upon them. I might cry. I might get angry. I might feel nothing. I might be numb to it now. Whatever happens will happen. My emotions are irrational, but that doesn’t make them invalid. They are real. My memories are real but I can change the narrative of all that. I had it rough. Yes, that left a mark that I can’t erase. It left me with memories I will never forget. But I can’t erase any of that. And what good would that do? I can’t remember much nowadays anyway. I barely remember the good times. I just remember what’s happened to me to serve as a reminder of what not to do. 

I just don’t understand how even though I understand all of this, there are still people I compare myself to that make me say, why do they get that but I don’t? What makes them so special that they get the love I want? What makes them special enough to get the career that I want? And then I blame myself for not being perfect, for being without motivation, for not accepting myself. This is all my fault that I can’t do it. Why can’t I do any of that? Why must I always miss my train? Is it truly because I don’t love myself? Is it truly due to nonacceptance? Rejection? If that’s true, then why are there all these exceptions? Why are all these people getting what they want despite their own setbacks? People succeed and they hate themselves…. They get love and they are inept…. 
I don’t believe in luck, but how can I explain any of that? 
I can’t. It doesn’t make sense to me. What am I doing wrong?! Just tell me what am I doing wrong and I will fix it! 
I feel like I’m constantly screaming into the ether and getting nothing. Not even an echo to prove that I have a voice in this world. When will I stop pointlessly yelling and turn my energy elsewhere? Why can’t I turn my energy elsewhere? Is this so ingrained in me that I can’t get out of it? 

For the love of all that is holy, I hope not. I won’t accept it. I’d rather die than continue living like this. I won’t continue to live in this prison. There must be a way out. There has to be. Now where’s my exit? 

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