Friday, 17 July 2015

Skin Deep: Fear

Dublin, Ireland

I don't know when I lost my voice. I don't know when I lost the person I thought I was, knew, wanted to be. I don't know when I started to feel so sad that at times it consumed me. I don't know a lot of things.

I guess... no, I know that's why I started blogging. Filled with teenage hopes stemmed from an over active imagination, an excessive amount of time spent reading books ( romance, supernatural etc.) and countless irretrievable hours watching movies designed to fool my young clueless ( yet not entirely ignorant) mind from which I created a disillusioned idea of life and how it's meant to be. A lie. I saw life as a movie. Simple as that. It was naive and dangerous.

It seems it's become the generation of Internet Kids, Keyboard Warriors and so forth, so is it any wonder I took to the internet?

I was hoping starting a blog would somehow help. I wanted to discover myself and let others discover me because otherwise, I wouldn't know how to. The years of speech and therapy classes did nothing but make me think there was something even more wrong with me. And as a result I started to chip away. Yes I was quite and I didn't really say much but I was quite because I'm generally a quiet person ( it might be hard for you to believe if you've met me but if you know me, you'll know this) and I didn't speak much because I was 10, I didn't have a lot to say about a lot of things.

Instead I became the girl who spoke to everyone and never shut up. I developed a major case of foot in mouth disease when my brain to mouth filter was destroyed by my growing false sense of self confidence in a person I wasn't. ' Fake it till you make it ' became my daily mantra. So many times I'd lay in bed at night wondering why I said something to someone. Berating the tone I used, what I did with my movements, what it must've come across as to the other person. It was the little things that people probably wouldn't care about I chastised myself over.  Like getting into bed and asking yourself if you locked the backdoor. It eats at you till you finally go and check on it.

I started blogging cause I thought if I couldn't be me in real life, then maybe I could be me somewhere else, where no one had to know me. I set up so many different blogs with so many wittily thought of names chosen from song lyrics and quotes I liked but I was never brave enough to even post anything about myself, or anything at all for that matter. I lived in fear of being labelled the weird girl, the freak. What if someone found out it was me and told everyone else? Then what would people think? I lived in fear of being myself for so long that eventually I didn't have to anymore because I no longer knew who I was. And trying to work my way back was even worse.

I put friendships on the line, I made mistakes, I neglected my family and those who cared about me, the friends I had ,I lost and the friends I thought were mine, I lost. Relationships with the people in my life became poisoned with distrust, dishonesty and insecurity. I was angry all the time, didn't want to talk to anybody because ( and here comes the old age excuse ) nobody understood.

On the outside I looked fine but inside I was fighting a battle and I wasn't how sure I would make it out.

Till next time my pretties xxx

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