I'm having an interesting evening. I am in one of those moods--The moods where I feel disconnected, disjointed and distant. I want to get in a car and just drive away--drive, and drive, and drive until the road wears out the tires and I run out of gas. Then I want to get out of the car and walk on--walk, and walk, and walk until I find the edge of everything. Then I want to stand on the edge and throw rocks over the side. The world is too big, and I am too small. I don't know where my place is. I don't know how I fit. Life feels like six different puzzles all jammed into the same crumpled box.
And the thing is, I shouldn't feel like this. I have so much, so many things that other people dream of and hope for--a good family, an education, food, shelter, security, long dark eyelashes... I really do have so much and on paper I am happy. Why do I have to convince myself that I am actually happy? My strange mood is compounded by guilt rising in the back of my throat.
My thoughts are vague, and watery. It is hard to put into words my mind. Why do I feel like such a failure? I don't know. Why do I feel chipped? Like that one plate my mom has in the matching set of ten, that one plate that got dropped--yeah, that is sort of how I feel, I think. Why is my best not good enough for myself? Why do I bite back disappointment when I look at myself? Why do I always pick, and pick, and pick? Why can't I be content? Why can't I like myself? I don't know.
I suppose it is just discouragement I'm wrestling with. I will be fine, this mood I'm in will pass. I'll probably just delete this post when I am not feeling this way anymore. I don't like posting inner thoughts and feelings on the internet very often, the truth is that I don't always know how to deal with my emotions very well and it embarrasses me. I try to handle myself well, but I'm still the tactless, sensitive, insecure twelve year old girl that I haven't managed to grow out of yet.
Maybe that is why I fantasize about running away and throwing rocks.