TheJosher24
Member
I've spent the last oh six years I believe in seclusion. Slowly I faded away from the society I belonged to because it was easy. The only people I knew were my girlfriend at the time (I cite her as the reason) and two other people. These were my friends, my only friends, the only people with whom I kept constant correspondence.
Within a year, I had succeeded in making my exit from their lives. But soon after, I became painfully aware of the sorrow I still felt over the breakup, or rather the "taking a break," though it had been a year of no contact with her. We ended things by going on a break and I received no confirmation that she no longer wanted to be with me during the year and a half of being friends following the relationship. I would've appreciated being told that she didn't want to get back together with me when she finally realized it herself but I received no such message. But that's okay, NOW. Then, it would've permitted me to be fully invested in the friendship she offered rather than run from it.
Feeling sorry for myself, I seeked distractions, one of which was bodybuilding. It gave me a sense of purpose, a goal - to get ******* HUGE. All went smoothly: the diet, the exercises, the whole regimen really, that is, until I became tired of it, not physically, but there came a point where I felt extreme revulsion to the goal. I no longer wanted to be big. During this time, I started working at a job that portrayed my nature, cut off from the world. I started working a manufacturing company that made pacemakers. The only thing I enjoyed about that job was that it was a distraction. I could not have cared less about the money, and it showed through my endless spending on things that made me feel good: DVD's and food. When I stopped working out, I went back to school (I quit after my first year because I could not focus, for my ex still commanded my attention). It was life-changing, I found philosophy and I found I enjoyed it because I didn't have to try. I just got it.
Then out of nostalgia, I started smoking marijuana again. The frequency escalated to daily consumption. The doses were high, to the point of, looking back at it, psychedelia. There was a day that I perhaps took a toke too many for a panic attack came. And looking back at it, it served as a wake-up call. I needed, and still do, other people. Problem is, I don't know how to make friends. It's easy when we were kids because we just knew considerably less, therefore we cared less.
If you reached this point, I apologize for the length. I tend to over-describe for I overthink.
It just feels like I'm going to be lonely forever, like I'm withering away inside a house that is dying with me. Every time I'm around people, I feel this warmth that can only be described as normalcy and all I have to do to be part of people, to enter into their minds, their attention, their memories, is speak. But I don't. I don't know what to say or how to say what I want to.
I crave company but I don't know how to get it. I have only one friend, whom I see once a week or two. In a lucky month, I see and talk to him 4 times. My parents are strangers to me. I don't know anything about them save for their identifiers, e.g. birthdate, workphone numbers, names, emotional habits, etc.. It feels as if I'm living in a house of strangers. My younger brother is the only person with whom I can talk about any subject, but he lives in another state, 2000 miles away, and he barely has any time to talk to me. My youngest brother is the same way as me. The only person I talk to everyday is myself, my thoughts. Sometimes I write them down and I talk to letters and words, but most of the time I am living in a world of thoughts. Given any second of the day I am daydreaming of people talking to me. When my head's out of the clouds, I cannot shake the feeling that I have to learn how to be human, relearn how to feel certain emotions.
I don't know what else to write for this is a new experience, as every experience has become.
Within a year, I had succeeded in making my exit from their lives. But soon after, I became painfully aware of the sorrow I still felt over the breakup, or rather the "taking a break," though it had been a year of no contact with her. We ended things by going on a break and I received no confirmation that she no longer wanted to be with me during the year and a half of being friends following the relationship. I would've appreciated being told that she didn't want to get back together with me when she finally realized it herself but I received no such message. But that's okay, NOW. Then, it would've permitted me to be fully invested in the friendship she offered rather than run from it.
Feeling sorry for myself, I seeked distractions, one of which was bodybuilding. It gave me a sense of purpose, a goal - to get ******* HUGE. All went smoothly: the diet, the exercises, the whole regimen really, that is, until I became tired of it, not physically, but there came a point where I felt extreme revulsion to the goal. I no longer wanted to be big. During this time, I started working at a job that portrayed my nature, cut off from the world. I started working a manufacturing company that made pacemakers. The only thing I enjoyed about that job was that it was a distraction. I could not have cared less about the money, and it showed through my endless spending on things that made me feel good: DVD's and food. When I stopped working out, I went back to school (I quit after my first year because I could not focus, for my ex still commanded my attention). It was life-changing, I found philosophy and I found I enjoyed it because I didn't have to try. I just got it.
Then out of nostalgia, I started smoking marijuana again. The frequency escalated to daily consumption. The doses were high, to the point of, looking back at it, psychedelia. There was a day that I perhaps took a toke too many for a panic attack came. And looking back at it, it served as a wake-up call. I needed, and still do, other people. Problem is, I don't know how to make friends. It's easy when we were kids because we just knew considerably less, therefore we cared less.
If you reached this point, I apologize for the length. I tend to over-describe for I overthink.
It just feels like I'm going to be lonely forever, like I'm withering away inside a house that is dying with me. Every time I'm around people, I feel this warmth that can only be described as normalcy and all I have to do to be part of people, to enter into their minds, their attention, their memories, is speak. But I don't. I don't know what to say or how to say what I want to.
I crave company but I don't know how to get it. I have only one friend, whom I see once a week or two. In a lucky month, I see and talk to him 4 times. My parents are strangers to me. I don't know anything about them save for their identifiers, e.g. birthdate, workphone numbers, names, emotional habits, etc.. It feels as if I'm living in a house of strangers. My younger brother is the only person with whom I can talk about any subject, but he lives in another state, 2000 miles away, and he barely has any time to talk to me. My youngest brother is the same way as me. The only person I talk to everyday is myself, my thoughts. Sometimes I write them down and I talk to letters and words, but most of the time I am living in a world of thoughts. Given any second of the day I am daydreaming of people talking to me. When my head's out of the clouds, I cannot shake the feeling that I have to learn how to be human, relearn how to feel certain emotions.
I don't know what else to write for this is a new experience, as every experience has become.
