The Attempt

With a title like that I’m setting you all up for high expectations.

Unfortunately, I’m probably going to let you down.

My mind is sputtering in circles. My thoughts are there- itching to get out and believe me I’m scratching and scratching but they won’t erupt. These thoughts are pressing against my sanity and there isn’t any relief.

I feel like a failure. I made promises I didn’t keep. I betrayed the trust of others and I’m only just beginning to unravel the invisible scars that haunt my thoughts. I’d like to say that I am invincible- that I will succeed and conquer this world but the more I try to believe  that, the more I am aware of my shortcomings.

It is as though I lived in a world where mirrors didn’t exist and now, all of a sudden I am surrounded by those mirrors.

In the past I thought myself a writer; believed that I would be the next J.K. Rowling. Yes, I envisioned great evenings that were centered around me. I dreamed of times when I was the center of the world. I told myself stories of how I got there but those stories never made it out of the battlefield that is my mind.

It is like the peat bog in the Neverending Story. I am struggling to get out but the more I try; the harder it is to move. So, I’m giving up and letting the bog take me. Afterall, I’m a nobody.

It’s a horrible feeling, realizing that you are an ant and that you don’t matter.  I don’t have the drive to get past these feelings. I could make valid excuses and the like but I’ve given up trying to explain the way I am.

Each day I wake up from my dreams frustrated and sad. I feel so alone for so much of each day. Like I am a ghost and people see right through me. I can begin my sentences, my ideas but before the thought reaches maturity it leaves me to find better pasture.

I want attention; but I also fear and reject it.  I want to matter; to make a difference. I want my voice heard. Is it normal to feel this lost? I’m sure it is. I just like to think I am unique- alone in my misery. Because then this wall I live behind would be justified.

I used to believe that I would stand out; be important. I used to believe I was talented enough to bring in enough money to pay what I owe. Now, I am surrounded by my debt and bad decisions. I feel as though I were betrayed by a god who saw me as a science experiment. I used to walk down that holy path; used to believe I had a purpose- a higher calling. I used to think I would be the one to blaze a path for those who will come after me.

Nope, I am just lost. I don’t know when that happened or how. I haven’t check my email in ages. I’m afraid to. I’ve been avoiding my mistakes- running from them like a child because I can’t admit that I failed. It grates against my nerves like nails on a chalk board. Slowly fraying each sense of reality until I’m completely lost.

On the internet anyone can be a star, so what am I lacking? What am I missing? Perhaps I have too varied ideas- too many different interests. Maybe my desire to write and to video and to create has been my biggest downfall. I’m great at creating new ideas and paths to great things but like every failed inventor none of my creations sprout past being a wilted seedling.

It’s a bit like being on one of those tea cup rides. You’re spinning and spinning catching glimpses of things. Sometimes, they are amazing and you want to stop; to pause and take in what you saw but you can’t because you’re spinning too fast. The next turn of the cup the image is gone and no matter how much you search for it you’ll never find it.

I’m attempting to explain why I’ve disappeared from the online realm- why I walked away from some blossoming opportunities. The answer is- I don’t know why. I guess I was scared and maybe I’m still scared.

It’s been three years since my stepdad passed away. My heart buried the pain long ago but I can’t help but wonder at his betrayal. At him leaving because running from the pain was more important to him than taking care of his family.

Maybe, I’m hurting because I believe in fighting for what you love; but realized that love doesn’t exist. How can it, when life feels so dull; so empty. When everything is tasteless and all I see ahead of me are endless years of worry and suffering. Is this what I am to be? An old crone with hatred in her heart?


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