Been feeling so uninspired lately. I find myself at a loss for words, literally, thinking way too hard to find the right one to match what I’m trying to say. I know I have to start reading books again before I forget everything I know.
But this lack of inspiration is alarming. It’s not something I ever thought I’d experience. Every little thing used to inspire me. And now, nothing.
And of course, I know why. I’ve been walking on eggshells, protecting people’s feelings, and holding back from writing everything I feel. I’ve imprisoned myself.
At least that proves I’m not the cold, heartless bitch I sometimes make myself out to be, following what others say. I’m just at a point in my life where I tolerate far less than I used to. I’m very sure of what I want and need, and when that doesn’t align, it pisses me off.
And that’s valid too, because I’m exhausted. I’ve exhausted myself trying to build people, and I’m left wondering when it’s my turn.
That’s such a deep question, right? Like chat would say, it is. Because everything in my life right now boils down to that. The security I’ve lacked my whole life, the one I hoped I’d find someday, and all these years later I still haven’t found. And now I’m trying to be okay with the fact that I’ll have to be enough for myself. I’ll have to buy myself all my dreams. No one else will. Shrinking yourself for other people’s needs only lets them take you for granted. And I’ve said this before, but because you seem fine alone, no one really tries hard enough to love you or take care of you. I mean, why would someone care about someone who looks like they’re doing perfectly fine? But that’s the point. If you loved me, you still would.
It just feels really shitty, being somewhat shamed for wanting the kind of stability and security I’ve never had my whole life, for having dreams, and for being human about it when things don’t go as expected. It’s like walking out of a movie during the best part, and the person who’s supposed to get it just doesn’t. I want a sense of remorse, an apology that says, I’m sorry for the impact my actions have had on your life. And maybe that’s the same apology I’ve wanted from my father too. Both are apologies I’ll probably never get, at least not in the heartfelt way I wish I could.
She Was Sea 