The Child

I have a craving to be loved. 

I feel like I will forever. This kind of craving that stems from childhood abandonment doesn't go away until someone can fill that void. Humans are meant to be loved and meant to take care of each other. It's not normal to take care of oneself and head one's own growth from a young age. I feel like the consequences of what I did back then are coming back to bite me now. 

Truthfully, I wonder if it was my fault. I could have leaned on my parents, but I didn't. I realized later that I could have trusted them instead of distancing myself so far, and what they did, although bad, wasn't enough to warrant my fear and anger of them. What I felt then was made worse by the dysfunction in my mind. But I've been like that since I was young and I honestly don't know what it's like to be functional. Even when I was in grade school I remember feeling miserable and angry every day of my life, of feeling resigned to the pain and living in a haze, only wanting to escape. I hated it. Life sucked. It still sucks, even though I have changed so much. Will it ever stop? 

I feel like if someone truly loved me it would stop. And if I truly loved them back. But is that true? I know from my past experiences with love that there's a pattern. Two boys were head over heels for me and I didn't feel anything. I realized today that I dove into those relationships without feeling anything myself, not understanding that relationships mean you want to be romantic, you feel something. What I felt was happiness that someone cared about me. I loved that someone loved me, but I didn't love them. And In the presence of such love, I fell apart. I unloaded all of my negativity on them daily and became weak and complacent. 

It came from a sad place. Deep down maybe I was searching for a parent and not a lover. And from there tensions only grew. I felt more and more disconnected and disillusioned with myself, and with them. I knew I had no feelings. I felt immense guilt for what I was doing that I couldn't place. And in the end, I broke up with them both. I broke their hearts, and mine too. 

I don't have much faith in love fixing me, or in men in general to be honest. i still feel bitter about the two immature, spineless, maybe I'd even say stupid men I dated. Yeah, I feel bitter about them. I like to think it's unlike me to harbor grudges and feel bitter towards others. But lately I have been acting very "unlike" myself. But anyway, the pattern shows that love isn't something that pierces me deep enough to the point that my gnarled roots show and I can begin to heal. In fact, I feel nothing but momentary warmth and happiness that vanishes before a yawning, gaping maw of insecurity. 

I've come to terms with the idea that I may just be aromantic. Maybe I'm just not capable of giving or receiving love. I don't know if that term only extends to romance, because for me it seems to extend to everything. I don't love anything or anyone, not even myself. As a result, I feel like I have no ties with this world. The only thing that makes me feel anything deep down inside now is art. It stirs something in me. But my relationship with art too is dysfunctional, and has been all my life. Those feelings often bring me stress and frustration at my own ability and persisting artistic blocks. 

I'm not sure what I live for, to be honest. If I have no ties with this world or anything or anyone, then what? In moments like this I don't care for my family, or my friends, or my culture, or my country. I feel as if I do care, but my "care" is only reflected in ensnaring feelings of anxiety and honestly I don't think that's even a real feeling for me anymore. It's an unhealthy tendency more than a feeling, maybe. 

Maybe this is who I really am. I struggle to be someone else who is better, but maybe in reality I am just a snivelling, cynical, antisocial person, the weirdo who occupies niche corners of the internet and attracts others like them, who few people like. But I also feel the urge of someone better pulling me, from inside, and I know I couldn't make that up if I tried. And I experience flashes and bravery and motivation of such intensity that I know I could be better, if only I tried. But is that it? I just have to try? I don't jnow what I have to do and I feel so drained and directionless as to not care so much anymore. And I don't see anyone around who can give me any direction.

I've closed off my heart. My therapist told me she wasn't the best fit for me and told me to find someone else. I don't open up to my friends for fear of infringing on them. And I definitely do not open up to my parents. The few people I talk to at length about my problems are online. Somehow it seems easier when you don't see the person and have to experience the consequences of doing that in real life. But even then, though I know what I'm saying is true, I don't feel much. There is a small amount of muted catharsis that's nothing compared to what I felt if I truly engaged with myself. So then, who else is left? Strangers who I don't know, to whom I am even more wary of opening myself up to. And the world seems so hostile these days, with every person pitting themselves and being pitted against everyone else, so easily offended and defensive and bristling like hedgehogs. 

Deep down I think I'm just a child who never grew up and who is deeply disappointed with the world around her and how life has turned out. There are things I never did that I wanted to do so bad. And things I did that I never wanted to do. I know objectively they weren't truly that bad, and my decisions weren't truly as damning as I think. But a child's mind doesn't process life like that. A child will cry and feel deep disappointment and feel as if the world has ended. 

I am that child. Or that child exists, deep within me, tightly balled up in a dark hole. Mourning rarely stretching out cocooned. 

Something needs to break. Something needs to give. If I keep following this track I've had laid out for me I will go insane.