In the age of information and technology, it seems that we’ve all become a little too comfortable with being strangers. No matter how many people we follow on Instagram, Twitter, people we add on Snapchat, we still somehow manage to not really know anyone at all. I, for one, am really good at being a complete stranger to everyone; but that’s not the point of this post today. I’m not here to stand on a soapbox and talk about how we need to make more of an effort to “connect” with other humans (whatever the fuck that really means anyway). No. I’m talking about myself and my lack of ability to truly connect with anyone these days.
I know, I know. You’re all tired of me treating this blog like my therapy sessions, but here’s the thing: I don’t fucking care what you think. If you’re reading this, you’re here for a reason so sit down and listen up. I’m talking about my inexplicable inability to tell people literally anything about me. Sure, I may seem like an open book, I mean I talk a lot, but I never really say anything of substance. I was sitting in the car with my friends the other day and was telling them about my family and it just dawned on me that these girls don’t know me at all. They don’t know about my depression, the “voices” in my head that haunt me every so often, the gruesome details of the trauma I’ve experienced, or my true passions/wants in life. Never once have they truly questioned why I am the way I am, or why I make the decisions I do.
“Is that my own fault?” I sit here, questioning every relationship I’ve ever made now. Am I the one who retreats into herself and shuts the door? Or do I make the conscious decisions in my relationships to put an artificial wall up that, sometimes, I feel may not even be there? All these thoughts swirling around in my head on make it harder to concentrate on everything else. Why is it that I let these thoughts consume me? Aren’t I the one who made myself out to be like this?
My point in all of this is, at what point are people no longer strangers? When is someone truly considered your friend? Am I just more selective than others? I can tell you one thing, I’m no “best friend whore,” where I tell all my friends they’re my “best” friend or anything like that. I am willing to admit that I am more selective on that front than a lot of other girls my age are. Is friendship when people know the depths of your soul or is that spot just reserved for soul mates? Sitting here, writing these things out makes it hard for me to come to terms with the fact that this is who I am. An empty shell of a human being. An insult I hurl around so often. It’s funny that a lot of my friends have their degrees in psychology, yet none of them have been able to realize this about me. Believe you me, the irony is not lost on me.
To wrap it all up, I guess I’m just trying to say that we should all take a moment and analyze our relationships with one another. Take a moment and look introspectively at how you approach friendships, people, strangers, loved ones, etc. Take a moment so you don’t have a crushing realization of the mess you’ve made of yourself at 22. Trust me, it’ll be worth it.