Midnight, not asleep

So, I grabbed the laptop since I was tired of staring at the popcorn ceiling of my apartment. Maybe I should go college style and put a poster over the bed. It'd probably be more interesting than counting ceiling dots. I've not been able to sleep properly for the past week, and I've taken a couple pieces of advice (including cutting caffeine/sugar).

Recently, I've just been angry. I'm not sure why, but I can't seem to escape it. It's almost a pseudo-depression. And it probably doesn't help that in my day to day dealing with people, I try to be the upbeat, optimistic one. Maybe I try to hard. I'd be lying if I said there wasn't some small part of 'want-to-be-liked' in there. I'm experiencing an identity crisis. Mostly, I have no clue who I am anymore. Somewhere, lost between my view of the 'perfect person', who I used to be, who I think I am, who I want to be, and who people see me as, is myself. My parent didn't support a new and burgeoning personality, they repressed it with indoctrination and religious dogma. I must agree with Dawkins, the worst mental damage as a child came from those around me stating I was of the faith of my parents. The person I was meant to be was shackled and thrown into a lake to drown. I'm still looking for them, but everyday I loose a bit more hope.

I want to dream. I'm tired of nightmares brought on by years of abuse. As memories of my childhood begin to surface, I realize why I forgot. To be the constant freak, the eyesore of all, for simply following a religious mantra. Year after year of no extra curricular activities, missed dances, ignored romance, and lost opportunities. And, to end up an adult, bruised, broken, beaten. Where even simple physical contact is difficult at best.

Why is it when things go well I feel like shit? I'm more convinced it's because some part of me still thinks I shouldn't enjoy the successes I've had. Because my life is now material, or sinful. Professionally, I'm respected, at the top of my game, and working in a top company with fierce competition to get in. Yet, my family won't talk about any of that, because I refuse to follow the path of their damn church.

I'm staring at a letter written by my family informing me that God will always be there for them, and that noone in the family can separate them from that. It's the first time in nearly a t year I've heard from these people, and that is what I get. I so badly want to tell them what's really going on. My mind is screaming to be heard. And yet, I live with the knowledge that this family of mine will never talk to me again if I am. How does a mere mortal fight with God himself? Yet, I know this is not "God", but an idea of religion from the minds of men.

Waking from great trauma is extremely painful, which is why I suspect dragging my sunken personality out of the depths continues to be so difficult. Building a life from scratch is so very, very difficult - and it's left me tired. I'm tired of forcing myself into so many things that I just don't have the energy or desire to do. Yet, I continue trying because I won't be satisfied until I find and help my true self come out. I wish it wasn't so fucking hard.

Back to counting popcorn.