Just Ponderings, It's been a while.

Inside I am screaming out for help but I forgot to build a doorway when I built my protective walls so instead I'm huddled up like a lost child, wanting love and protection but wary of any who come near. I am whimpering in the darkness of my soul and feel trapped by my perception of how one should act in the world. When I'm in church, I want to run to the front, kneel on the steps and cry out but instead, I cry silently in my pew, too scared of what other people would say and think. I long to be like my 2 year old self, running around, laughing, crying, just being however I wanted to be without caring about all the old people tutting and harassing my mother about my inappropriate behavior for church. But Jesus said, let the little children come to me. As children we are truly ourselves, in school we learn about social status and cliques and conform to try to make ourselves fit in, we then spend the rest of our lives trying to find ourselves. It all seems a bit silly.
Some days it feels like the entire human race hates each other.
Sometimes I wish we all just weren't.
Do blades of grass or humming birds have these kinds of problems?
Do sparrows feel guilty when they eat the seeds from the farmers field that they did not sow?
Are dandelions always wondering where there children have gone and scour the garden for when one will come back?
Why am I me?
How does a river feel when an animal dies in it?
Why do people who have the most feel like they are missing the most?
Am I lost?
I am lost. But did I wonder off the path? or did I join the wrong one? Did I take the path less traveled and find it too overgrown to navigate? Or am I just ill equipped? Left the house in the wrong shoes and have had to take a rest stop to let my blisters heal. How long have I been traveling astray? Was I ever even walking with Jesus, or did I just kid myself? Too young, too naive, too innocent, did I actually believe I had it sussed?
When I was 9, I decided Jesus was cool. He was the puppet master, we were asked if we were ready to hand our strings over to God. I had never been more sure of anything. But I still couldn't share this with anyone other than God. Sharing is the most important thing. Why is it so difficult? Why do we live in a world of such ungrace that we find it shocking and terrifying to talk to someone and share Jesus's love first off?
I just dinne get it.
I say that a lot. And it's true. I do not 'get' most things in life. All the good things seem too controversial and bad things seem unfathomable.
What would the world look like if our main identity in life was not student, banker, homeless, orphaned, working class, emo, ned, unpopular... but we could simply say 'I am the one Jesus loves'. What would we feel if we could truly believe this with all our hearts. I love Jesus, but I cannot believe that he still loves me. I just turn away from grace because it seems simply too good to be true. I am scared I guess. Scared it will all just be snatched away again. It's too scarey to be happy because being sad is so much worse. At least when you're sad everything levels. That's not even true. But it's something like that.
My migrane is starting to eat at me again so I think I better put the bright light away and get back to being curled up in a darken room.

I am angry.
I am scared.
I am exhausted.
I am lost.
I am stuck.
I am looking for answers.
I am at a dead end.
I am confused.
I am sad.
I am undeserving.
I am helpless.
I am on the phone.
This is better.

Hate.
Why is there so much of it?

Nothing In Particular.

Current dilemma: How to feel happy enough to prepare a presentation for tomorrows job interview.
Bah.
I would muchly like to just sleep. I got to sleep sometime before 2 last night then woke up at 4 and could not sleep. I managed to get up but have had an unproductive day and now would rather curl up in bed and cry than think about what I'd like to tell kids about science. I do not want to work at the science festival. It's far too hard. I would be crap at it anyway. I am a rubbish public speaker.
I purchased daffodils to brighten up my life.
I think I need to drink more tea.
Totally stressed myself out now.
I need to get the bus at 0918 from across the road in the direction of ocean terminal. It will get me somewhere near the office at 0940 giving me 20 minutes to find where I am going. Which is hopefully enough time to get there but not too much to stress overly.
Now I need to write a bloody presentation.
I just feel so crappy I have no idea where to start.
Kimmitt is coming round to motivate me. I feel like he should just go to the interview tomorrow. He would be muchly better anyhow.
I don't even have anything to write. I am just so tired and so dead inside. My nose hurts too. Silly stud. BLA
I kinda wanna scream, kinda wanna just curl up and die. Either works.

Complicated

I have not written for a couple of weeks. Apparently this is bad. So I thought I would rectify that.
Currently listening to Avril Lavigne, I'm in a bit of a hair brush microphone kinda mood. Wish I had sing star.
About half an hour ago, I got a call from some woman called Tracy telling me to check my emails because I have an interview for the Science Festival thingmybob. Having just got in and checked I have discovered I have to prepare a presentation aimed at 5-11 year olds about some aspect of science. Freaking out slightly. I shall try and calm and use it as an excuse to go to blackwells tomorrow and read kiddies books. It also reminded me that I didn't call All Staff to see if they could get me a summer job. Tomorrow.
Tomorrow will be stressful. Then Wednesday might be just about okay and then Thursday will be stressful again. And then it's DAY OF JOSHY.
Good times.
I feel really crap, and generally really angry, but also lacking the energy to feel.
Anna called me last night. Just hearing her voice made mee so angry, so confused. I couldn't speak to her. I would have justshouted and ranted incohearently down the phone.After I hung up on her she texted me, said she took so long to reply because she was trying to think of how she could help me best. that made me angry too. Too little too late. I don't need her help, I would just like not to completely be cut out of her life. At the same time, she's always made me feel worthless and crap and generally insults me at least 5 times every time I see her. I feel like I'm not working hard to keep people in my life. Like Claire, I haven't spoken to her for over a month, it kills me a little inside. I should write her a letter, but at the same time I'm thinking why bother. I'm the crappest friend in the world. The less people relying on me the better. I need other people a lot. But I'm too scared to ask for help. Too proud. Too embarrassed. I have great people around me, I just worry that I put too much on them. Well I know I do. And I just wish they would agress and hurry up and get rid of me. Currently composing a sufficiently hurtful text to send to Anna. I don't like being mean, and selfish. I do it far too much at the moment. I hate it. And it makes me hate me more even though it's what I have to do to get through the day. Stupid.
In my head I walked infront of a bus today. It was such a rush. So close to freedom. The stopping of the pain. It would be so easy. It unnerves me slightly how comforting thinking about this is, but only very slightly. Mostly I'm one tiny step away from peace. All I'd have to do is take a step off the pavement, end of. So I might only get surverely injured, but at least then I could go and hang out in hospital where they have lots of drugs.
I just remembered I'm wearing superman pants. It made me a bit happy. But not really. Also the tea. But it's the 3rd cup of the evening, I'm starting to get a bit jittery. I did eat. So it's all good. I hardly ever feel hungry so I just eat crap and drink tea. It's really bad. I need to purchase more fruit. I would also like flowers for my nicely tidy room. For some reason it still feels such a mess. I think that's just my head though. Bla.
I've totally just rambled incoherently for a while.
I think I'll stop.
Go back to crying and listening to Karine Polwart. (I got bored of singing, it felt wrong.)

How to stop pretending?

I want to be honest. It is not something that comes easily to me. Or at least something I have trained myself to loose. I am not okay. But what am I? I have been avoiding my flat mates, I don't remember the last time I saw anyone, I just hide in my room all day and scavenge at night.

My need is such, I pretend too much, I'm lonely but noone can tell.

I am depressed. I don't think I've said this, like at all. It's so easy to just answer fine when someone asks me how I am. It goes down a lot better than a truthful answer. I generally expect people not to care. They ask after you because this is what you do. Not because they are genuinely interested in your well being. Don't be crazy! I guess this is why we get scared when people do care, when people listen and actually want to know. But that's not my problem at the moment. I do not know where to start. My feelings are irrational. They do not make sense to me, let alone anyone else. So how do you tell someone how you are feeling, without expecting too much of them but in an honest way.

I'm trying to word God thought. But I do not know where I am going with any of my musings. Yes. No. I shall not.

I was sure I had a lot to say some hours ago. But now it is 3am and I am nowhere near to wanting to sleep nor to thinking anything that isn't purely negative comments about myself.
I am feeling really quite low again. In an angry way.

Tomorrow I am going to start reading Harry Potter again. I look forward to it. Or try to. Reading is a lot of effort. Harry Potter was easier than most books that are acceptable for grown up children to read. I was named and shamed in 2nd year for reading a Jacqueline Wilson book, I think that was when I stopped reading out of choice on the whole. Ms McNiel. Terrifying woman. Liked to shout. I mentored her regi class in 5th and 6th year and was always scared to go into the class incase she ate me. She also often mistook me for a 1st year and shouted at me for wearing face paint, musical socks, a smile, and kissing the boys. I think I would not like to be a teacher because the children would hate me and I am fearty of going into a school ever again. Hate.

Take another shot of courage, wonder why the right words never come...

Will I ever be good enough?

After all, worrying wouldn't stop the rain.

I do like simplistic things aimed at kids. Sometimes it just makes so much sense. I am sure it is wrong. But I do not feel like debating this.

Today was very stressful. I have not yet got over it. I did good though.
I also enjoyed planning elaborate dinner parties in my head. I had forgotten about these dreams. It used to be my plan to cook a huge meal weekly for special people and then live off the left overs for the week. Tupperware and matching dinner sets are needed for this plan. I really liked the plates we had for lunch today. Mainly because they come in red and yellow and orange and I do think that pretty plates to eat from is much like wearing pretty underwear. It just generally makes life better.

I find it amusing that I could listen to music for 3 months without repeating anything.
I also enjoy iLike and smart playlists and being told what to buy by a random electronic...thing.
I would like dishes that are dark brown to black on the outside and lime green on the inside with textured lines. And then brown(?) cutlery... Hm. I shall think.

I imagined the sea this evening. It wasn't that pretty. There was the breaker wall. And the dark sky and the dark sea and the looming shadows and the scummy water edge and the various dead things washed up on the shore. There was a figure sitting on the wall. I think that was me. I wasn't sure at first, it was just kind of there, so I decided it was mocking me. But actually I think it was just me, stranded.

Currently, I would like to be sleeping. I am still somewhat stressed from today, and am stressing about tomorrow because it looks very busy on paper. I think everything will go wrong. I will not sleep because of the stress-edness and then I will finally sleep around 6am and then fail to get out of bed to go to churchicle with Georgie and therefore fail to go to the gym with her for endorphin releasing fun and then will just get so worked up about the rehearsal that I will chicken out from going and people will be disapointed in me, annoyed, let down and not understand. pah. if this was any other day, I'd turn and walk the other way, today I'll stay not walk away... I try hard to. I also try hard to find reason to. It's hard to do something when you don't know why you're bothering. I do not know what to say to people. I do not want to be around people. I don't much like being alone though. I cannot follow conversations. I get sad when I'm trying to read things because it is just a jumble of words on a page. There is no meaning. Nothing has meaning. But trying to understand and make sense of words is especially frustrating when you have been told to read it. I dinne get it. What makes you think you're meant to get life? I do not know but I think it would be nice. And certainly make it easier to just keep trucking.

Who am I? A lot of the time I fear I have lost myself beneath this dark veil. I don't recognise me. Some days it's only when I think hard, other days it's constant and overwhelming. I'm cruel and heartless, I do not care for other people. I am the centre of the world and that world is worthless. I become so self involved it's disgusting. Yet I can't stop it. I don't think I can even recognise it most of the time. carry on, carry on, as if nothing really matters... What does matter? Who actually cares.

This post is muchly disjointed. This is how I feel at the moment. Broken. Tattered. In pieces. Lost. Hopeless. Worthless. Empty. Alone.