a sad first post

the anonymity of the internet doesn't work when all your friends and family read your blog. even if they never comment. and anyway, perhaps i should keep a blog of my own sad moments for myself. It will either help me to understand myself, or make me feel worse when i'm already feeling down... .....

anyway. it was a melancholy sort of evening. my day was nice, i stayed at work for way too long - i definitely didn't mean to be there till seven, but my boss is nice. He makes me feel good about myself because i know that he doesn't like very many people, but he likes me - so that makes me feel special, i guess.

Then i came home and cooked an actual dinner for myself, with j and z goofing around in the kitchen. everyone else was/is gone. i'm not sure where a is, but h is in olympia for her mom's bday. not that i ever actually expect her to be home.

then j, z, and i sat and watched bridget jones 2 on tv... and other miscellaneous shows. maybe it was colin firth. colin firth and his damn "i love you" face could have been what set me off. i want someone to look at me like that. bridget is ridiculous and silly and i want to be loved for being ridiculous and silly as well. but it doesnt seem to be happening.

anyway, then i was left with the beginnings of my ever-frequent melancholy of i-want-a-boyfriend. common lately because a/j and j/z are always around, reminding me of happy couples. that, put on top of h's ability to have any guy she wanted, is probably enough to make anyone feel lonely. compounding on top of that is my own personal need for physical affection, which i havent had really ever from someone non-platonically, other than 1 week when i was 15. now i'm 21. 6 years seems like a very long time to not get a more-than-friendly touch from anyone.

then the real trouble begins. my rationale starts in on this equation: i'm not that physically unattractive, am i? i don't really think i am - i'm almost certain that i have a very good face, though not a similarily cute body to match. but, maybe i'm wrong? how can six years of nothing lead to any other conclusion? maybe its me and my own shyness. i am shy with everyone i don't know. (and then become loud and absurd and just a bid odd all-around once i know people.)

i realize that my own self-immersion into a fantastical make-believe world of television, film, and ridiculous fan-fiction has misled me into believing that even if i am shy, someone should see and recognize this as being an endearing quality, and want to bring me out of my shell . . . ? maybe? right. yeah. real life means that probably will never happen.

this is shaping up to be a phenomenally long first post. i think i'll have to break my psychosis into multiple posts, as the depressed reasonings are all the same, and i don't feel like typing for much longer.

by this time now, i'm really just wanting a hug. the only one in the house i hug is j, but i try to limit myself, otherwise i'd just be hanging off of her all the time. i also try not to do it so often when z is in the room, because that seems a bit awkward to me (though it probably really isnt).

so i left the room instead, and returned to my small cave of a bedroom. i like my cave, its small and dark and completely and utterly my space. i paused inside of my door, as i often do when i'm feeling this way, and debate going and curling into a ball inside the closet (where it is smallest and darkest). i sat on the computer for a long time, still feeling moderately depressed, but just going about business as usual. i didn't get up until music from z's room downstairs started bass beating its way through my floorboards.

i decided to venture out of my room, and if j was in her room, i'd go get that hug that i'd wanted earlier, even if it was a bit more pathetic/desperate needing hug than usual. j was not in her room, but rather in z's room. which i had kind of expected. it is friday night, and they usually spend weekends together. having finally worked up the courage to get my hug, and then having it not be available made me more sad. i thought of my cat. he's lost now, but i think he helped stem the constant need for contact i seem to be feeling lately. but now hes gone, probably due to my own neglect for his well-being and making sure people kept the doors shut, and hes most likely dead.

well. no j. no cat. but perhaps animals are helpful. so i decided i'd go look at j's gerbils, though i wouldn't really be getting "contact" from them, it couldn't hurt. so i went upstairs. they were asleep in so much fluffy shit that i couldn't even see them. so. still alone. and in the dark, because the dark always seems more "right" when i'm in this kind of mood. i contemplated curling up in both of the closets upstairs as they are small, dark, and more confined than my own closet. i always wonder if i do that, will anyone notice i'm gone, and if and when they find me, what will their reaction be? i again pushed aside the childish urge to curl up in one of these spaces.

instead, i decided to stare blindly out the window that looks out over the street for twenty minutes. maybe more. i started by distracting myself from the ever-cascading downward spiral of my thoughts (some like above, more that i'm sure i'll will eventually explain if i ever post again) by unfocusing my eyes so that all the little spots of light on the street abstract themselves to look vaguely like christmas lights. then i realized that this was where i was standing the last time i saw my cat (i think it was my cat) alive.

then a woman pulled in across the street and went into her house, where she chatted with the other two people who i could see through their living room window. a bit later a man pulled into the house next to the first house. then one cat ran down the sidewalk, being stalked by an orange cat. then j came and brushed her teeth in the bathroom at the end of the hall. she didn't look up the stairs and see me, or if she did, she didn't say anything. she went back downstairs to z's room.

Eventually i, too, moseyed my way back down to my room, deciding finally to look at personal ads on craigslist. i did, for longer than i should have (a common effect that anything on the internet has on me), but it made me feel a little bit better knowing lots of people are kind of lonely - but also sad because i don't think i'm attractive enough, inside or out, to ever post or reply and have anything meaningful come out of it. Have i mentioned that i'm shy? and when i say "shy," i mean Scared. I realized a long time ago that i am ruled by fear. i'm afraid of everything and everyone, it seems, but i either don't know how to fix it, or (and this is more likely) am too afraid to try and change. Fear begets fear, i think.