I am tired, dissatisfied and a phenomenally shitty writer.
As is evident by my fantastically rambly opener.
My sister, whose been enthralled with her 9-5 summer job for the past three months, is. Fading, maybe? No, that's too egotistical of me- my lack of interaction in her life does not mean the rest of her life is disappearing. It just means that she's growing apart in ways that are to be expected but are, ultimately, surprising.
I mean, it's nothing too drastic. She hasn't moved away or anything, and this could very well be an exaggeration on my part due to her being gone all day, every day for pretty much the entire summer. But we're growing apart, that much I find undeniable. And I get it, believe me I do: we've moved to a new state, and she's branching out and spreading her roots, making friends and living life in all the ways a newly-turned 18 year old should.
Whilst I, on the other hand, spend my days either home alone or at my 89-year-old grandmother's house. I haven't gotten a summer job, or a boyfriend, or a whole new social group that takes road trips over the weekend to go to amusement parks 2 states away.
And I don't think I'm jealous? Sure, I'd like friends and to go on road trips and to have someone who'll smile when they see me and stay up late to talk with me. But it's not an active jealousy. It's more like I've come to terms with my failures in those regards and just notice all her achievements with a dim sense of admiration. Mostly, I just regret how we're growing apart because she's moving on, and I'm just standing still.
Outside of specifically social situations, strangers have begun to terrify me.
Which is really just the culmination of years of homeschooling, virtual friends and irl bullying. It's not that surprising insomuch as it's shameful: my 7 year old self would be so disappointed in me. What happened to that little social butterfly? I was going to be the Best Teenager Ever, I was going to have whole droves of friends and/or, at the very least, I was going to go on adventures with some of the really good friends and I would laugh and smile and be pretty and confident.
Sorry, sorry- I know it's cliche. I've been spending a fair amount of time lately lamenting all my flaws. Which is just one more way of saying "wallowing in self pity", admittedly, but. Ugh. Just fucking ugh. Which brings me to the flaws themselves: 1. I swear too much.
2. I talk too much to be saying so little
3. I'm incredibly unhealthy.
3A. I'm the fattest person in my family
4. I'm a shitty friend
5. I'm a shitty student
6. I'm a shitty sister
7. I'd say I'm a shitty person overall, but at least my mother likes me.
7A. The only voucher for my character is my mother
The list goes on but- really, I'm too old to be wallowing in all this bullshit. I know that the only time listing your flaws is accepted/encouraged is when the listing subsequently leads to those flaws being corrected, to making attempts to fix things, to fix yourself.
And I'm all for that. I'm in love with the concept of making an effort, of pouring over my studies, of eating healthy, of learning to cook something other than frozen pizza and pasta. I want to be a better conversationalist, I want to be the kind of person my sister can confide in. And I keep doing this, keep psyching myself up for going out there and fighting tooth and nail to become the kind of person someone would be proud of because sure as shit no one is now.
And then
I don't.
And wow this entry is so much more self-pitying and loath-worthy than, perhaps, anything I've ever written. And I'd apologize for writing it but the key to writing is because you want someone to read it, someone to care, and that's just even more loath-worthy: putting all this on display and then asking people to care, asking someone to help.
I really hate myself some times.
I'm so sorry.
I'm so sorry.
You deserve tea and warm cookies and a hand knit blanket. Not this junk.
I'm so sorry.
Maybe this is better, though. Maybe I'm not supposed to be any good. I know that a lot of people refute the line "You need the night to see the stars" as bullshit, but I've always put more stock in it than I probably should. And maybe I'm just supposed to be the void, to be the darkness, to linger quietly and slip through obsidian shadows, providing a stark contrast to all the stars in this sky.
I'm not sure if I'm disgusted or exhausted by how little that concept bothers me.
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