…Only for you I don’t regret that I was Thursday’s Child.
-“Thursday’s Child”, by David Bowie.
Well, cats and kittens, it’s my 22nd birthday today, so you’d think I’d be so happy I’d want to crap rainbows.
I can’t say I am too thrilled though. Not about it being my birthday, but because that time of the month is just about getting over, so I’ve been riding on my own personal emotional roller coaster, and it’s been stalling at depressed and negative a lot more than it usually does.
This morning began famously, with my mother awakening me from a nice [but completely innocent] dream involving Def Leppard’s drummer, Rick Allen. Granted, she woke me up screaming “Happy birthday happy birthday happy birthday”, so I couldn’t be all mad at her. We celebrated my birthday yesterday, but they saved one present to give me today, which was a bag that’s halfway between purse and messenger bag. I wanted to use it but I’m going to wait till my current purse completely spontaneously combusts before I use the new one.
So anyway, even though it was my birthday, and my dad [who’s off from work this week] did not ask me to do any chores, I was still depressed. I’ve been depressed and negative a lot lately, and that is not a good combination.
I wrote a bunch of crap in a notepad document to get it out of my system but I’d like to talk a bit more about some of it before I continue my explanation of today. Yes, this is going to be a bit of depressed ranting, but everybody needs to do it once in a while.
First off, if you’re good at artsy fartsy type things [and feel they are some of the only things you do well], do you ever wish you were good at something that was actually of some use to someone? Like, something you could actually do to earn money? If I could fix cars or computers, and loved doing it, I wouldn’t have to toil for hours and hours and hours, and make so much art that it began to impact me in a negative way, just to be able to barely scrape out a starving artists’ living.
Now, I love my art; aside from music, it’s what I live for, but with my art/music abilities, people can do without them. People can’t live without food, water, shelter, transportation, etc, but they can live without art, and they can (although I can’t imagine how) live without music. So basically, I feel like I’m good at nothing anybody really needs. Can I feel like I have any worth if my talents are things people could do without?
That could be a double edged sword, though. If I was only good at services, things people actually needed, they wouldn’t want me because they just wanted me, they’d want me only for the services I’d provide. So it’s a bit like the old “damned if I do, damned if I don’t” adage.
Also, lately, I’ve been feeling really alienated, left out, like an extra people don’t really need. I kind of feel like people think I’m retarded. It just feels like, lately, when I go to work, everybody looks at, talks to, and generally acts as if they think I’m stupid or retarded. My brother tells me it’s in my head and that I’m just paranoid but I don’t know how to believe him, since this shit feels so real to me.
It feels like, as soon as I leave the room, coworkers will babble about how annoying I am, how gross I am, how they wish they didn’t have to work with me, and how dorky I am, how they wish I was normal, and laugh and make fun of me behind my back. Which kind of brings me to my next topic; guys. I witness so much of this, I only want a slim, platinum blonde trophy wife/girlfriend, the easy one. It’s like they don’t want to work for a relationship, they just want a quick fuck or something. Or it’ll be too much work to start a relationship; so they go for one night stands instead.
They just want the normal girl.
And that gets me thinking. I have a somewhat eclectic taste in music, clothing, and demeanor. Sometimes I wish I liked more normal things so maybe I wouldn’t feel like such an outsider. And I wish all this shit didn’t bother me so much, so I wouldn’t feel so depressed when somebody I have a crush on (a cook at work) asks if I like any newer bands, and I say “Not really”, and then the conversation dies before it really even began [That happened Tuesday at work].
If I didn’t like strange things like pink hair highlights, and having a nose ring, maybe I wouldn’t feel like I get so many of these, ‘omg, how gross, what a loser freak dork fatso, let’s go make fun of her behind her back’ looks. But when I think of it, it’s pink hair. People aren’t going to not look. I almost wish I could change the fact that I liked that stuff. It’s like. I don’t want to change who I am just to feel like I fit in, but I am getting increasingly tired of feeling like I’m the one that doesn’t belong, the one person in a huge crowd full of people that stands out, the only one that doesn’t feel like they belong there.
Sure, I have moments among friends where I feel like that’s where I’m supposed to be, but more or less, I just feel like the outsider. The outcast. I’ve never lived there as long as any of my other friends. I have differing views. I have a bit of a different taste than everyone else. I don’t like some ‘acceptable to the group’ things some of them do or say. It’s like, I don’t want to be a herd animal that blindly follows others of its kind because it fears being singled out, but I’m really sick and tired of feeling like I don’t belong anywhere or with anybody.
Now, my best friend Vanessa is literally my best friend in the entire world, and I don’t know where I’d be without her, and shoot me if I’m wrong (actually, please don’t), but I’m sure she’s had her moments like that, only with me being the best friend.
But, I wish for once that I could find somebody, a somebody I’m supposed to meet, and that I belonged with. Don’t get me wrong. I am the happiest in the world for my best friend and her boyfriend, for Erin and Kenny, for Jenny and Jarrod, for Amanda and Ryan, but… I get so tired of it being everyone else that gets someone. Not me. I’m the third wheel. The odd one out.
And, to add to all this, I can’t ask anyone out. My brain will tell me things like, It’ll only end badly, you’ll just be really embarassed, they’ll already be taken, you’ll look stupid for even wanting to ask, they won’t like you, they’ll think you’re even more retarded than they already do…Which most of that’s a load of rubbish, but it doesn’t change the fact that, in the situation with any guy of interest, my vocal cords literally stop working and I can’t talk to them.
And, I love love LOVE the people that try to help me by saying things like “Just take a breath and jump” or “Just do it, just ask them, just talk to them.” but if it were that bloody easy, I think I’d have done it by now and I wouldn’t be sitting here wondering why I couldn’t do it. Even if I was scared, even if I was afraid I’d be rejected. If it was as simple as people tell me, I think I’d have done it by now.
Anyway, my dad took me out for lunch today, we went to an Asian food place in town. We talked a bit, some of it was bitching at me because ‘I was spending a lot of time ont he phone, if we went over our 1200 minutes split between four people a month plan, I was going to pay every cent of overage charge… I’m sorry. My best friend, basically my sister from another mister, lives TWO HOURS AWAY. I haven’t seen her since the beginning of JULY, before that, the beginning of JANUARY. Don’t get pissy at me, I have already agreed that if we went over, I’d pay the overage.
Anyway, work sucked today. Since my stupid crush on the cook developed, I’ve felt socially retarded around EVERYONE in the fucking kitchen. Even people I don’t “like” that way. It was my 22nd birthday today, so before work I bought some reeses peanut butter cups, some miniature snickers bars, and a box of little debbie cosmic brownies, yet the whole three and a half hours I was at work, I didn’t have the guts to tell anyone ‘it was my birthday today, I brought treats, you can all have some. ‘
Hell. I didn’t even have the guts to talk to the cook. All I said to him all day was, hi, I laughed at something he said, and bye. That was it. Fucking IT. I mean, what sort of message is this going to send him if all I can do when he talks to me is laugh stupidly, or sound feebly obvious as to what I’m thinking. I only hope he doesn’t notice how red my face must be whenever he talks to me.
God I sound like a stupid middle schooler. Here I am, the eve of my 22nd birthday, and I’m ranting about guys like a 16 year old girl would.
I actually wanted to cry the entire time I was at work, but I held it in, so on the drive home my eyes were like faulty faucets and I couldn’t stop whining about, why was I so dumb, why couldn’t I just say that, why was it so hard.. basically my faulty faucet eyes were drowning me in a pool of self pity that was really disgusting.
I just wish I liked one thing, just one thing that this guy liked, so we’d at least have a chance to strike up a conversation that lasts more than 20 seconds. He probably has the hots for one of the servers or something, considering he flirts with every female at work but me. Probably because I give off a bad vibe or something. Goddammit. Just once I wish I could like the right guy. It feels like it’s never going to bloody happen.
Anyway, tomorrow I’m going to end up bringing the treats back to work, and saying something like “Yesterday was my birthday, and I brought treats, but I was too shy to hand them out so I brought them back today”. Probably not to the cook, to one of the servers, JD if she’s there. Since she’s the only person there that I feel remotely comfortable around.
Goddamit. I wish I knew one of the servers well enough to ask questions about the cook. Just to find out if he’s taken. It’s like, I feel like I’ve hit a brick wall, although even if he was free I’d still have enormous problems talking to him.
I’m not a people person, unless I’ve had a few to drink and I can’t very well come to work drunk, or get drunk at work.
Well. Even though some of this will still be on my mind the entire day tomorrow, I’m glad I talked about it here. I know there are things I could do to change all this. I know that. It’s just getting started on it that feels impossible, because I’m sure once I started on all this, continuing would be very easy. I just can’t seem to get started.