I don't really understand what sick pleasure the universe receives from hurting me, but it must feel ahh-mazing, because it keeps happening. It seems like I take one step forward, and start feeling positive about something, and in the blink of an eye, I'm knocked back fifty feet. I'm just to sick and tired, physically and mentally. I feel so beaten down, and I don't understand if this is some kind of karmic punishment, or something else.
Lately, I've been feeling utterly alone; in every sense of the phrase. It's like everyone around me is so preoccupied with other people and obligations that I'm just starting to slip away from everyone's view. There's always been some part of me that has felt invisible at one time or another, but now, I really am starting to believe that I am no longer a part of this world. I think I've always sought refuge from myself in others, but now there is nowhere to hide, and I am being faced with all my demons all at once, and I have no armor. What makes this so much worse is the fact that my depression makes me feels isolated even in the happiest of times, but now people, who I thought were close to me, aren't even noticing my absence; and it's starting to kill me.
When I say that people don't notice my absence, I mean that in a few ways. It can be little things, like at home, I'll be locked away in my bedroom for hours, yet no once seems to notice or care. Which, maybe I'm just being self-centered, and people are busy, and my whereabouts are not a priority. I don't want or need to be the center of anyone's universe, it just hurts when I hear my family laughing and talking, and carrying on. My anxiety makes me irrational at times, so I'm probably blowing this way out of proportion. However, to me, when this happens, it just feels like life would persist perfectly fine without me.
Over the Thanksgiving holiday, I was actually having a really nice time with my family. I helped my mom make this huge meal, and it was really fun catching up with my family. Things actually felt pretty decent, which doesn't happen so much for me these days. On the Saturday after Thanksgiving, I decided to get on Facebook really quickly to see if someone had replied to a Birthday message I sent them. Getting on Facebook was probably the dumbest thing I could have ever done, especially at a time when I was feeling really good. ( I tend to avoid most forms of social media like the plague, because it just feels so fake, and at the same time, I depresses me, because even though I know no one could actually be having a time as fabulous as the one they are posting five million photos and statuses about, it still sucks to see people doing [seemingly] so much more with their lives than I am.)
The first thing that popped up on my Facebook feed was a photo of all of my best friends from High School. At first I smiled because they all looked like they were having a nice time, but then I realized that the photo was uploaded just moments ago, and at that exact moment all of the people who I still called my best friends had decided to get together for dinner, and I was not with them. I was not with them because not a single person, in a group of at least seven people, could be bothered to invite me. The fact that I was literally talking to my mom about my great friendships that had withstood grade school just days before really struck a nerve. In previous years, whenever this group (formerly called "our group" when I would talk to others about my great high school friends) would get together, there would be a group message on Facebook, and some texts would be exchanged to make sure we could all make it. I can only assume that the same string of events transpired, the only difference this time was the fact that no one cared or remembered to invite me.
I had never really felt like an actual member of this group, to be honest. I was always just a part of it because I had really tight relationships with at least two people in the group. While all of these friends went away to college our bonds loosened a bit, but at least two of these individuals stayed in actual contact with me. I called these two people my absolute, ride or die, best friends. Until the Saturday after Thanksgiving, I would have honestly died for these people. I had been through so much with them. Well, looking back, I had actually put up with too much from these people. I am just now beginning to realize that our friendships were very one-sided, and held together by a very thin bond. I had been the person left to pick up the pieces for these two countless times. When they needed a shoulder to cry on, I was there. When they needed relationship advice, or a place to vent, I was there. Looking back though, neither of these people were ever there for me like that. In fact, neither of these people, who I know so much about, know anything about the struggles I've been dealing with for years. Part of that could be because I'm quite secretive, but the main reason is because neither have ever put in any real effort to get to know the real me. They basically just used me. That fact hurts. No, it devastates me.
It was like everything I thought I knew came crashing down around me all at once. Friendships that I thought would withstand anything, were actually made of glass. So here I sit, sifting through years of friendship, getting cut by the shards of falsehood. When I saw the picture, I was angry, yes, but I really just wanted to burst into tears. I held them back though, until that night. I cried alone, in my pitch black bedroom, for what felt like an eternity. I always resort to crying in private. I suppose a part of me feels like the pain isn't as real or intense if no one can see it, especially if I can't see it. When you cry in the dark, you can feel the tears, but you don't have to see them. Seeing them is like accepting them, and pain isn't worthy of acceptance.
After this marvelous revelation on friendship, or my lack thereof, I just sort of felt empty. Well, I still fell empty. I mean, I still have my family, but it was nice believing that people who weren't genetically obligated to care about you, were concerned about your well-being. I've had nothing but time on my hands lately, and I've just been thinking about my life, and the path that I'm currently on. Most days, it feels like the world is moving forward all around me, and every day I'm just on auto-pilot, reliving this little loop of an existence. I have got to find a way to change my course, and get on a different, preferably linear, track.
Perhaps I can use my isolation to my advantage. A part of me wonders if the universe has a grand plan for me; I just have to accept the negatives and work through them, instead of trying to go around them. Maybe I'm supposed to be alone right now, so I can grow internally; find out the inner workings of my soul. Instead of having someone to run and hide behind so I don't have to face my fears, and myself alone, I am going to have to put on a brave face. I've viewed solitude as a negative thing for as long as I can remember, I guess I'm going to have to rework my thought processes. At the rate I'm going, I'm going to be alone my entire life (or at least for a large part of it), so I might as well get used to it, and make the most of it.
Lindsey. Twenty-Five. Currently pursuing a degree in Professional Writing & Film Studies.