I feel as though I've lost who I am.

I'm drowning
swimming in a pool of me's
all the tiny molecules begging to be
part of my dipole moment.


I need to get away, to escape this place -- physically, mentally, emotionally. I have God. That I know, but I'm still only learning how to use that relationship how I'm supposed to, or how I need to. I don't understand why I hurt inside, and why tears flow so easily these days. Why silly things make me feel deceived, beaten, and morally wounded.

I feel like I'm in a motivational trench. A serious lack of a want to do anything, really, except my schoolwork which is dry, mechanical, and fulfilling because it doesn't require emotionally-linked decisions to be made. Elections for AGD are this week, and while before this semester I had always kind of assumed I would try for an EC position, I no longer have the drive to. I don't want to run for something just cause; I only want to run if I have fresh ideas, new perspectives on how to do the job better, and innovations to implement. But I don't. I don't have any thoughts. None. I feel like I'm not good at anything anymore -- this especially depresses me at the Technique. As Jody has said, a trained monkey could do my job. Nothing would happen if I quit. It and its people don't need me anymore.

I feel as though my mind has been wiped clean. There's nothing left in it. I don't have anything left for myself. It's not like I'm even all that involved this semester, but I still feel emotionally devoid inside. Unfulfilled, completely. Empty. And I can't figure out how to fix it.

I keep thinking back to that one blade of grass in the FUI parking lot by the Physics building, the one I knew I would. The one I've written about previously in this here blog. I dream of the simplistic days of having routine, one that included Diane Rheam and All Things Considered. One that included my family, my dog, my friends -- the things most important in life. My perspectives have changed completely this semester. I feel suddenly like I'm too old for this shit now. And I've just turned 20! What's wrong with me? Why do I feel as though I'm not even fit to do the things I think are important? Like hanging out with my friends. But, there's a problem with that too. I'm shy. Ridiculously shy around people I don't know. Since when have I been an awkward thirteen-year-old who can't communicate about average everyday things with my fellow man? I feel out of control of myself and my own emotions. I don't want to die. But I can't really think of very many reasons why I should be living.

And, now as I sob and shake, I am thinking about how much it hurts that one of the biggest changes this semester is something that I hate. Something that I am not proud of, but is supposed to be incredible and an honor. I hate it. Really, truly hate it. I feel like it's making me seem to be someone that I'm not. It has made me question even more who I am and why I am and what kind of person I am and challenging everything that I thought I meant -- everything I thought my personality was and what my ideals were. It's an awful feeling, feeling like you've been fooling even yourself about what's inside your heart. But I know what my heart says and is and means, right? Who are you to tell me otherwise?

Now my keyboard is wet.

It's as if all the stresses of the past fifteen weeks have suddenly decided to manifest themselves as wet droplets of tears creating rivulets down my cheeks. Ay.

I miss Mandy. I want my Mandy back, I want to feel like a good friend again. There's another casuality of this person who've I've become. But wait--who is this person who I've become. I feel like I've charted my life's course so well, plotted it with all possible turns and falls, that I can just step back and think, and watch my life as it happens. But I don't want to be sedentary in participating in my life. What is that?

Now I have to go blow my nose and sleep. Maybe someday I'll be fulfilled and happy again. Until then, I'll just be wearing that normally chipper smile and fun-loving guffaw that people never see through or care to ask why these sad eyes are hiding behind such a fake grin.

Times like this make me want something bad to actually happen, something quantifiable and concrete, something for me to blame these confusing, depressing emotions and stresses on. Something to make it all make sense, at least superficially. As much as I hated the "dad" years, at least it was an excuse for whenever something was wrong. And I got good at fooling myself. Naivete and ignorance really are bliss.

Goodnight, world. I hope your stars are sparkling more than mine right now. I pray that I have better days coming. I know that I am loved, by my friends and my family and my Sprout, but I feel like my heart isn't really acknowledging it, and so I feel empty and alone. Completely and utterly alone in this world of mine. Love come back to my heart. Please. For the sanity of this brain.