Ah it’s Monday again.
This Monday is better than last Monday. I was barely holding it together then. I was seriously on the verge of losing it. I woke up and then the darkness set in. I don’t know if it was because it was Monday or because mornings stress me or what. But I almost stayed home.
I couldn’t face the thought of going outside in the dark. That whole masked gunman thing messes with my head all the time, and even more when it gets dark in the mornings. I hate that. But I gotta live with it. I’ve done it for two years now, so whatever. I did go outside and make it to work safely, but for the rest of the day I was super on edge. I
’m on edge a lot because of how I feel when I go outside. Then I’m on edge in my apartment because I’m always like who’s gonna break in (which hasn’t happened and it better not) or who’s gonna have a fire (which has happened). I spend much of my time being unsettled by something and it all adds up occasionally.
Anyway as I said, I was super on edge. Then I was just so sad that day and the rest of the week. Sad about what I don’t know. But I get like that sometimes.
When it’s all too much and the little stresses add up to big stresses and I wish things were different and recognize what I wish, it all just comes crashing down. Then I have to climb out of the pit and go back to holding things back until the next crash.
I’m mostly better today, as I always am. The darkness is still there lurking in the shadows as it does. But as long as I can keep it at bay, I’m good. This is why I like to take vacations twice a year and go to my happy place (Vegas, of course). Just for a little while I can forget.
That is one place I am truly happy, truly my (crazy) self, and truly light. I’m not held down by the job, my own wants, or any of the stuff that lives in the darkness. So for at least two weeks out of the year I am truly free.
It’s a good thing I write or I’d go truly crazy. My thoughts aren’t something I bring up in daily conversation ever. Imagine how that would go. That’s an amusing thought. People would think I needed to be committed. And I’m not sure I would disagree.
Which leads me to think about what people are really like on the inside. Speaking for myself, what people see on the outside is not who I am. It is either who (grammar check says “whom”, but that doesn’t sound right) I purposely portray by controlling what people see and/or it is what people prefer to see me as either through ignorance or blindness. Which it is or how much of both, I haven’t figured out yet.
In part, I control what I portray for some obvious and not so obvious reasons. For instance, at work I portray the quiet, conservative, well-mannered, submissive, seemingly hard-working me. In truth yes I’m quiet but not that quiet, I am conservative neither in dress nor views, well-mannered only when I need or want to be and in most cases I’m thinking something else, submissive not so much and hard-working hardly since I’m so not motivated and my work is not even an eighth as challenging as it should be.
Around most friends I flit in and out not really making an impression. That’s mostly because though I like my friends, I have very little in common with them outside of superficial things. I have very little in common with most people, to be honest. I find people to be alternately boring, curious, or stupid. I’ve never felt as though I’ve fit in among any particular group for various reasons. And since humans are a group, count that one, too.
But back to the topic – the various facets of who we are. I am, I think, more myself when I’m away than at other times. It is far easier to be me when I am around people who don’t know who I am. There are no expectations. They won’t know if something doesn’t fit with how I normally am or how they think I normally am. I wish there was some easy way to just switch to who I have become. But there’s not. So I just have to kind of work the new me in and slowly allow those that know me to see these new things. Otherwise known as “growth” or “maturity”. Or at least that’s what the textbooks call it.
There are several incarnations of me. The quiet introspective (not a surprise). The angry wannabe rebel. The thoughtful intellectual. The writer and music lover. Yep. All me. But who is more me? That’s what I’m trying to figure out. And how do I work all of that into the forefront? Or do I? I think that’s what life is really about. Forget finding yourself. It’s being yourself.
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