Sunday, August 12, 2012

Ending the Dry Spell

with more sad teenage rambling from a young woman old enough to know better...Sorry about your luck.  I'll try and keep it sarcastic enough for you, but I'm making no promises.

I've learned that no one actually listens to me.  Oh, they say they do, and they certainly hear some of the things I say, but no one is listening.  If I'm not being spoken over, I'm getting no feedback whatsoever.  And I'm tired of it, frankly.

I know I don't always speak my mind, and I know I have a round-about way of talking about things.  Writing is a lot easier for me because I get more time to think through what I want to say and how to phrase it so people will understand me.  And verbal communication in person has always been difficult for me, mostly because what I want to say, I'm not allowed to because of social reasons.  I'm also less likely to  mispronounce something if I'm typing it rather than if I'm saying it.  That being said, you'd think I'd post on here more, but the truth is, because I've never been listened to, I find it hard to believe anyone would read what I write.

It might be why I haven't started on that book series in earnest yet.  Or it could be that I'm lazy, whatever.

It's why I don't tend to open up to people.  I can know someone for years and they'll not know a thing about me, because I don't say what I want to because I don't think they'd care enough to listen.  It'd be harder for me to believe if every time I tried to say something that I honestly believed in or thought, people wouldn't just ignore me, talk over me, or just not pay attention, then later say the exact same thing I just did, and not give me the credit for it.  Which hurts.  A lot.

I'd like to think the girl I've called my best friend for the past two years (almost three now) listens to me.  But sometimes I think she gets an idea in her head, and is too stubborn to actually listen to what I really mean.  Now, there's nothing wrong with that, since as I've mentioned SEVERAL times in these few paragraphs, I'm used to it, lots of people do it, nothing to be ashamed of.  But it still hurts.  And it's even worse because no one will ever let me explain what I really mean.  It takes me so long to sort through my thoughts and emotions that I can't actually hold a conversation with people, unless it's via text (either email, or texting) and no one will wait for me.  I feel like I'm being left behind in the conversation, in my life, in my relationships.

I'm losing hope on ever finding anyone who will listen to what I have to say and actually give me real feedback on what I'm telling them, as opposed to just responding to what they think I've said.  No one asks me questions, they just assume they know what I'm thinking.  I'm not that easy to read.  and no one really knows me.

It's hard, but I'm coming to terms with it.  I mean, I've lived with it for 20 years.  Might as well get used to it now, right?

And no one thinks I'm smart enough to have my own thoughts and opinions.  I'm not always well educated on the subject at hand, and that very often comes across, but people assume that because I don't know one subject, I don't know anything and they try and tell me how to live my life based on what they would do, because they don't think I can manage myself.

Which is dumb, because as far as I can tell, I'm probably the most put together person I know.  So my room's a disaster and I rarely remember to (or care about) feed(ing) myself.  I pay my bills on time, I do okay in school and I'm always at work when I need to be there, unless I'm not feeling well.  And even at that point, I still try and do my job until I realize I just can't handle it when I'm ill.  I don't reach out to people because I'm worried they won't be reaching back.

And isn't that a key to my locked mind.  I've holed myself behind my walls because no one ever did reach out to me.  Any time anyone reaches out to me, I reach back to them.  And they're always grateful.  But when I reach, no one ever even looks.  No one cares.  And it sucks.  The only friendship in my life that I thought was worth something, she reached out to me first.

I don't lead a bad life.  I have a great life.  I love my job, and I love the people I work with, my family is wonderful and supportive, I have a friend, I have several friends...but no one knows me.  No one even bothers to try and learn.

I can't talk to anyone because I just end up making them feel bad too.  And that guilts me into feeling worse, so I don't tell anyone what's on my mind in fear that they'll be brought down, too.  Most of the time, I can be quite happy and cheerful.  I've learned to ignore that people don't care, simply because I do.  I care a lot.  And that will most of the time over power this feeling of no one caring back.  And for the most part, people seem to like that about me.  But they don't care.

And that's really really painful, when I let it get to me.  Like I am now.

Don't worry, I'll probably be fine by tomorrow.  We'll blame my menstrual cycle.  It's always a good excuse when I'm being sensitive to this.  Because I do have it under control.  I just feel lonely sometimes.  And it makes me sad, but I've gotten so used to it.  I've been alone for ever.  Even when I thought I wasn't, I still was.  And maybe one day, God will send the right person who will listen and care into my life, but that's still a long way off, I feel.  And that's fine.  I'm a patient person for the most part.  I've waited this long.  What's another 20 years?

Until Next Time, Dear Readers,

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