I keep staring into space and wondering why. Why do I keep trying. Why do I even put forth the effort. These wrinkles of joy are merely a reflex; they are a lie. I am a liar. To myself. To others. To anyone that has ever mattered or will. Even when someone treats me like dirt I’ll still smile. Even when someone has made it clear they don’t give a crap about me.
Growing up I didn’t interact much with others. Much of that was because my parents never allowed it. I wasn’t allowed to go to anyone’s house. I wasn’t allowed to invite people over. I never had birthday parties until I turned 15. Even then it was because of the whole quincienera thing that I had no clue about. I was always the awkward kid trying to fit in and trying to make friends. I partially gave up in high school and even wrote pages in journals that I planned to kill myself. All I wanted was friends like the other girls. I didn’t have a mother I could talk to and relate to in any way. There was a language barrier but also a very large age gap because my mother was nearly 40 when she had me. This resulted in a very lonely life for me growing up. I didn’t know how to talk to people because I didn’t have much practice to begin with. Then when I was 20 I went back to community college. I started taking communications courses and learned how to not be as socially awkward as I was before. I learned to talk to people in a better way and understand people as well. Almost a decade later i’m still having difficulty trying to make friends. I never feel I can trust anyone and get scared to try for the potential rejection that may ensue. I worked at the same job for nearly a decade. I made a small minute list of friends while I was there and I still keep in contact with them. I changed jobs in the last year and have had a hard time interacting with others. I thought I had made a friend until they made it abundantly clear they really don’t consider me a friend. This after a year of me trying to interact with this person and share with them small facets of my life. It felt worthless to keep trying. I feel worthless for even trying in the first place. It may seem childish, but when you grew up being rejected this almost feels like another reminder that you’re not worth someone’s time.
I’m having a hard time being reminded of why I still continue breathing. That movie A Simple Favor didnt help. She made a snarky comment that the best thing she could do for her son was to blow her brains out. Hopefully these new meds can alter my sunny disposition.