BOOMERANG

Today's word is boomerang.

Everything just comes swinging back, doesn't it?
This blog, untouched, forgotten, without a hope of revival sees some sort of light of miracle.
I find it again, rummaging through memories in my head, like an old treasure in the bottom of a box. I go to the blog and read every single post multiple times. They're terrifying. So sad. And angry, and self-pitying.

I thought I had changed. I thought I was happy. It felt so real. So real. And yet here I am back on my terrifying blog looking for something to latch on to that will pin down my sanity.

I think I shoot for extremes. I was extremely sad, so I tried being extremely happy. But it doesn't work. Extremes aren't real. They're, well, extreme. I think I'm at a normalizing stage right now. I think this the period when all those crazy rebellious university students turned into doctors and lawyers and accountants and moms and dads. They normalized. That's how they stayed sane, became happy. It was real. Never extreme.

I haven't been sleeping.

Admittedly, I've been eating less these days. Sometimes I look in the mirror and can pinpoint the exact location of where those five pounds of "happiness" showed up. But I can't go back. That dark place scares me more now than it did when I was trapped in it. I just have no appetite. I am a zombie.

I roam the dead streets of night searching for something alive, just to keep me going.

And these days, I feel so hollow. I keep trying to fill up with good things, but nothing is working. My heart is an iceberg. I can't tell if it's melting or imploding. Either way, I don't like what might happen.

Hearts are something you don't have to deal with in Sadland. In Happyland you always deal with them. In searching in the dark abyss of "identity" for your normalized self land hearts are just like everyone else hearts. They beat life, break with the littlest nudge, heal with a hug.

But mine isn't there yet.

Mine is still defrosting (or imploding). And once it has there's still the wall. Oh, the wall. Who knows when it was first built? I certainly don't. I tell myself it's been there forever. Because that's just easier. But I built it. Brick by brick. A tall tower surrounding my body, my soul. And no one can get in. Even if I wanted them to.

And maybe that's the problem. Maybe I'm tired of my wall pushing people away. Maybe it's time to smash down those bricks. But I don't know how. I can't normalize because I just don't know how. It's frightening.

And the Deb.
My Deb.

A term for a person who really likes and wants to be with you and possibly thinks he/she is already with you. But you just don't want them. And they're nice and lovely and you don't what the right thing to say is, don't know how to break it gently.

But then some days I think maybe he's not a Deb. Maybe I'm just scared. People who try to get through the wall scare me.

I realized today, high in a field, sun setting on my back, that I do this every time. This is not normalizing me but typical predictable me. Whenever it's time to leave, I push people who care about me away. I'm fazing. After all this, the boomerang comes back. THWACK. Right into my consciousness. Where did I go wrong? I'm distancing from people. Testing them. Training them for the summer and next year when I'm not around anymore.

I want to see how far I can push them away and still have them come back to my wall, sledgehammers and steamrollers and all. But, like always, they give up. Who wouldn't? It's foolish to think that people care infinitely about you. That's why I'm never getting married. Nothing lasts. Love does not last.

And that's why my Deb scares me. He likes me to a frightening degree. Frightening to me. He is nice and funny and cute. I know. I just know he is the kind of person I should be with.

But I'm paralyzed. With a melting heart, an imploding soul, hiding out in my fortress where nothing can hurt these fragile parts of me.

Part of me wants to let my Deb in.
The other part thinks it will be no good.
But if I'm normalizing, isn't having a boyfriend a good thing? Even if it is just for a month.

Then poof! I'm gone. Like always. Drifting towards that perfect place for me that I know will never exist. But I'm still searching. There's a thin hope that keeps me hungry. And there's certainly no way I can drag my Deb around with me.

I wish it was all easy.
Doesn't everyone?
I know it's foolish to think like that, but I can't help it.
I want to be loved.
But I don't know how to love back.
I'm hollow.

I am a terrible past, repeating, repeating, repeating terrible present, with an undeniable terrible future.

Alone.