magpie1oh1

[magpie1oh1]

Where Is My Mind...

Where to begin...

I normally write privately in my physical journal, but recently, it has become more and more difficult to hold a pen with a steady hand. I love writing, but to satisfy my busy mind and quiet the silent screams that take place in my brain and body everyday, I need the writing to go a little faster. I need to get the noise out of my head and onto the digital page. I'm writing for myself. I don't want to explain my thoughts, my trauma or the dark passenger that dwells deep within me, waiting patiently for the breakthrough.

I have to write. My mind is racing today. Running on no sleep. That would be many thanks to the adderall I devoured earlier. It's my first day off in over a week and I've been craving some mental stimulation. Some intellectual intercourse. My tank is on E. My brain is beginning to atrophy. I feel so self important. A huge yuck to the people around me. I don't believe I'm being my authentic self. I have this shit fuck superiority complex that creeps up once in a while. I find myself looking at the very few friends I do have and I feel nothing. I want to feel something. I'm forcing myself to feel through these friendships, but I feel stagnant in them. 

I'm a body of water in a confined space. No current. No flow. I desperately want to move, to flood, to pour. I want to storm, but instead it's quiet. I don't find the people around me interesting or stimulating and faking my way through conversations and exhausting myself on a daily basis with the fake laughter and constantly having to be "on" is mentally exhausting and it's making me resentful. I want so desperately for someone else to pick up the slack. Allow me to power down. I'm craving a steady flow of conversation that doesn't involve work. I am not without force or vitality. I can feel it boiling inside of me, but there is no outlet. 

I value my friendships and I love them dearly and would do absolutely anything to make their lives easier and more fluid, but I am being held back. There has been no upward growth. I'm desperately trying to make my way out of the fisherman's net, but I'm constantly being pulled back in. Deeper and deeper. Not to put too fine a point on it, but I don't have much in common with them. I'm masking. My interactions with them are carefully crafted to meet each person's specific needs required for the friendship. I have just enough in common with each of them to sustain the relationship and I don't want to lose them. They matter to me, but I haven't found my equal, my counterpart, in either person. 

I have always been the soundboard in my friendships. People feel safe with me and they should feel safe. I create the space needed for each individual person in my life. Whatever their specific needs may be, I make sure they're met. I am able to relate to the sordid details of their lives without flinching or becoming uncomfortable. My childhood was filled with chaos and varying traumatic experiences, so, I'm more than just a little understanding of the fact that people's lives have static. I don't mind static.

I am the safety net, the soundboard, the comedic relief and should low tide begin to affect the flow of the conversation, I am the gravitational pull that brings it right back. At the end of the day, I am worn out and mentally exhausted. I have to self-isolate for hours to recharge my batteries and I feel like I've been fed on by a pack of energy vampires. Drained. Eaten alive. Nothing left of me or for me. 

I know how I sound. I feel all kinds of ick about myself, but I can't deny that this is how I feel and how I view my relationships with people. I'm carefully curated to fit certain needs for certain people. I have always been this way. I am not attempting to be anyone I'm not. I am simply giving others the leg room necessary to stretch and get comfortable. 

I have had very few people in my life that allowed me the luxury to just BE. I didn't have to entertain. I didn't have to perform. I was just a piece of furniture in their lives and it was wonderful. I could sit in silence, dissociate, converse, retrieve my peace and silence my thoughts because it wasn't necessary to have any. I didn't have to think or be clever or quick. I had only myself to fuel and care for. I haven't had that stillness and peace in a long time. 

I know other people must feel this way. Somewhere they're having all the same mundane conversations with people they love and care about. Muting the best parts of themselves just to give a little peace to someone else. Is it wrong? Are we ever one hundred percent ourselves? Who do we feel safest with? Where do we go to quiet the storm?