The desire to journal or blog or write about my thoughts and state of being right now have been so far away from my mind. When the idea of writing did come to mind, it was initially redirected to "what's due" and "will this count for my poetry practicum?" To be honest, no one reads this, except future me. (Hi, Hannah. Yes, you are a retard talking to your future self. And future self, you're probably smiling. Stop that. Okay, don't.)
I want to say so many things, but I realized something new about myself, or what my interpersonal comm class will define as "blind self." There are so many things buried within my head and heart and soul, and I'm blind to it. Others might be able to see it, or maybe not. I am not always capable of putting it all into words. Words diminish the value of moments and feelings. I wish someone could touch me and I suddenly felt what they meant, and not just heard words describing what they mean. I wish I could blame all this hollowness and emptiness and blank state on depression, but part of me wonders if I drove myself to this. Did I push myself to the limit and now I can't feel anymore? Am I a walking sociopath who mimics everyone else to seem normal? Have I forsaken true emotions? Will nothing touch my heart positively anymore?
I try not to make the first paragraph so heavy, but just as a normal introductory like an essay is supposed to be. Blogs aren't exactly essays, are they? I've been writing too many research papers and not enough journal entries. I'm not quite sure where I lost that desire. I want to document this year, my damn senior year of undergrad. But I hate this year. I don't feel detached, I am detached. I don't feel anything. When I feel something, it is so slightly and it fades quickly. It's like taking one bite of dinner and swallowing, and that's it. The feeling and the taste is over, digested, and gone. Well, I still can feel sadness, but part of me wonders if that's really sadness I feel or sadness is where I am at. My actions aren't that of a depressed person, per say. I push myself and try very hard to still do all the things I normally would do, but I'm suffocating when I do try. Everything is hallow, shallow, seems pointless, meaningless, and nothing really means much to me anymore. Excitement, arousal, happiness, entertainment... These are rarities and short occurrences. I think I broke myself. To be honest, future Hannah, because no one else is reading this, I am completely uncertain of nearly everything. My counselor told me we can work together to sort through all this. Who else can I truly talk to? God? I'm not really certain about him right now either.
I don't lack confidence or self assurance for the most part. Hurt and this heartache and these scars just won't go away, and I think my insides are gutted out, and there is no room for anything but shadow and fog. I have been aiming to reconstruct my mind and how it processes things, or deals with things. My natural way of processing is to lead with my heart, my emotions, and not with my head. Because of my stress and business, I've pushed that to the side and been forcing myself to be logical. I kissed someone I don't even like just to see if I'd feel anything negative or positive. All I felt was the fact that his lips put pressure on mine, and it was just happening. There was no disgust and no tension and no chemistry. Future Hannah, you might be saying now, well Hannah I never liked that guy and I wasn't that attracted to him, so no kidding. Damn, Hannah I hope we are at that point when you read this again. I hope you don't remember the details of how much it aches that I want to feel something intensely good again. I'd say it feels like this, but again, I can't truly feel anything.
I want to say so many things, but I realized something new about myself, or what my interpersonal comm class will define as "blind self." There are so many things buried within my head and heart and soul, and I'm blind to it. Others might be able to see it, or maybe not. I am not always capable of putting it all into words. Words diminish the value of moments and feelings. I wish someone could touch me and I suddenly felt what they meant, and not just heard words describing what they mean. I wish I could blame all this hollowness and emptiness and blank state on depression, but part of me wonders if I drove myself to this. Did I push myself to the limit and now I can't feel anymore? Am I a walking sociopath who mimics everyone else to seem normal? Have I forsaken true emotions? Will nothing touch my heart positively anymore?
I try not to make the first paragraph so heavy, but just as a normal introductory like an essay is supposed to be. Blogs aren't exactly essays, are they? I've been writing too many research papers and not enough journal entries. I'm not quite sure where I lost that desire. I want to document this year, my damn senior year of undergrad. But I hate this year. I don't feel detached, I am detached. I don't feel anything. When I feel something, it is so slightly and it fades quickly. It's like taking one bite of dinner and swallowing, and that's it. The feeling and the taste is over, digested, and gone. Well, I still can feel sadness, but part of me wonders if that's really sadness I feel or sadness is where I am at. My actions aren't that of a depressed person, per say. I push myself and try very hard to still do all the things I normally would do, but I'm suffocating when I do try. Everything is hallow, shallow, seems pointless, meaningless, and nothing really means much to me anymore. Excitement, arousal, happiness, entertainment... These are rarities and short occurrences. I think I broke myself. To be honest, future Hannah, because no one else is reading this, I am completely uncertain of nearly everything. My counselor told me we can work together to sort through all this. Who else can I truly talk to? God? I'm not really certain about him right now either.
I don't lack confidence or self assurance for the most part. Hurt and this heartache and these scars just won't go away, and I think my insides are gutted out, and there is no room for anything but shadow and fog. I have been aiming to reconstruct my mind and how it processes things, or deals with things. My natural way of processing is to lead with my heart, my emotions, and not with my head. Because of my stress and business, I've pushed that to the side and been forcing myself to be logical. I kissed someone I don't even like just to see if I'd feel anything negative or positive. All I felt was the fact that his lips put pressure on mine, and it was just happening. There was no disgust and no tension and no chemistry. Future Hannah, you might be saying now, well Hannah I never liked that guy and I wasn't that attracted to him, so no kidding. Damn, Hannah I hope we are at that point when you read this again. I hope you don't remember the details of how much it aches that I want to feel something intensely good again. I'd say it feels like this, but again, I can't truly feel anything.
