I am so completely at odds with myself right now that if I could crawl out of my own skin and donate it to Goodwill, I would.
And this place, this forum, this blog is of so little comfort these days that calling it a farce would be putting it mildly. It’s a soft-shoe routine and it infuriates me. I infuriate me. I haven’t written anything ‘true’ in too long. I’ve watered it all down, made it fit for human consumption and censored myself in a place that was built for exactly the opposite purpose.
Doesn’t that seem wrong to you?
And why?
Site stats!
I know who reads this: 500 more people a day than when I started it. And of those 500, I’m pretty sure there are at least a few of you who don’t want to know the whole truth. Nor do I want you to! You see, little by little, as my anonymity has faded (for better or worse) and good friends, family, not-so-good friends, love interests and coworkers have started reading, I, in turn, started tidying things up. If I put it all out there, told you exactly what I was thinking, I can only imagine the backlash!
There’d be some who would want take pity, take credit, or take me to therapy.
Please don’t be tempted.
I mean, what if I told you who I wrote those letters to? The answer would just throw you ALL for a loop. And on a completely separate note, what if I told you that everything you’re saying about me at parties is true? I mean, would you be comfortable with the truth if the truth was,
Yes, I had an affair with the Fireman. I did. And I’m actually very sorry for being selfish and for hurting people’s feelings, but it’s just a little too late for that, isn’t it?
I’m disappointed with myself. I’m dissatisfied. And I’m uncomfortable.
What if I told you I stopped listening to music that had any meaning? That I want to turn every single CD I own into a fucking coaster? To stop watching anything but bad reality TV. To stop buying good books. All just so I can avoid feeling.
Because I feel wrong all the time.
What if I told you that today at work they gave me another raise and a bonus and that only makes me want to go home and cry in the shower?
I feel ungrateful. I feel ungraceful. And I feel lost.
My instinct makes me want to run home to my family. But I can’t. Because they aren’t there anymore. I want to be surrounded by my friends. I want to be left alone. I want J to not be the only person who calls my cell phone. I want to not want what I cannot have. I want all the answers right now.
And I want to stop waking up every single morning, terrified that this is all there is.
What if I told you that?
((HUG))
I’d say you were human. And that I understand. Except I suspect there’s nothing I can say that will make you feel it’s OK or that anyone understands.
I’d listen. And smile. And say, “Me too.”
Aw, Fish. It happens. Do you think Thoreau’s line about most people living lives of quiet desperation has survived almost 200 years because it was such an uncommon experience?
But for most people, it’s temporary.
Hang in there, and know that at least 500 people a day are pulling for you … and that most of them are grateful for however much or little you’re able or willing to share. I’d say more, but it’d probably sound like advice.
Hi honey,
Long time no chat. I know what you’re saying, it’s the same reason I ditched my last site. It’s also the same reason I haven’t launched the new one. You’ll figure it out
in the meantime, guest #375 is thinking about you!
This entry represents high quality fish-of-yore expression. It’s a pity you feel less than free to express yourself because you’ve got the right stuff. It’s not the content (everyone falls in love, hurts, works, feels dissatisfied, etc) but your way of putting your experience into words.
I happen to like how you express yourself, and lately as you know, I’ve noticed the change. But I can totally understand what it’s like to have people reading you’re less than comfortable with. It’s much better to write for strangers who aren’t necessarily eager for more knowledge about you, just interested in hearing your take on specific experiences. As it helps to inform ours and light the way a little.
As I mentioned…damn their eyes that they are reading what would ordinarily be none of their business. They being the unwanted ones. The private self needs its privacy.
I still think you should set up another blog…and not tell anyone whose eyes make you uncomfortable.
i’m in a boat similar to yours. you’ll make it ashore. have some faith.
i can only imagine how bad it is for you right now. hopefully your tide will change and i’ll stop writing bad analogies.
I’d tell you that I often feel that way, and I know a considerable number of other people our age who do, too. And also that it doesn’t matter what I (or anybody else) think or what I know or how I react, because it’s your life and your feelings and YOUR blog. I love your writing, but I’d rather not get to read it anymore than read it knowing it’s giving you so little comfort.
I have been there, felt so seriously wrong with everything, for a long time.
And fuck the stats, write whatever you wnat. This is your place.
There are plenty of people of *all* ages who feel just the way you do (me, me, me!), and Christmas just seems to exaggerate the good and the bad.
A friends-only blog might be the only answer. That’s what I am planning to do when I get my blog into a state where I can post it. If you have the energy to do two blogs, so much the better.
Hang in
I could sic Mistress Beatrix after all those people you don’t want reading your blog, for you. Her whippin’ fingers are getting itchy.
Just let me know.
Years ago, in the midst of a terrible depression, I cried out “There has to be more to life than this!”.
My father, watching me cry my eyes out, said something along the lines of “No, it doesn’t get any better. You just have to live with it.”
Looking back I now know that was a turning point, the moment from which I began to get better.
Because I didn’t, for one second, believe him.
fuck ‘em. it’s for you, not them. (us, i mean.) odds are: honesty will only remind us why we started reading in the first place.
A hug to you Fish…and now I raise my right hand and swear “I don’t know you” But… I sure do enjoy your prose.
michael
It IS honesty. YOUR honesty. And that is all that matters. They read because THEY choose to, not because you ask them to. It’s YOUR life and YOU should live that life, and share as much of YOUR life, as YOU wish. Even if it hurts, upsets, angers, whatever, others. It is YOU. I don’t even know you, but I read just to hear YOU.
F them.
I recently thought that I should commit suicide because I decided I just wasn’t very good at life – not very responsible and, at 31, not thinking that I can learn to change. It wasn’t that I wanted to kill myself, it was just that it seemed like the logical thing to do as things were only going to get worse and I wouldn’t get any better.
I feel better now – why, I can’t say – and I figure I’ll soldier on through the next three months and then see what happens.
I think that even if you try not to feel the unhappiness catches up with you anyway. I have been trying not to engage in life in any way (no responsibility at work, no relationships friends or romantic, no hobbies or anything) and I find that I just don’t like myself much or have anything to talk to anyone about because all I do all day is think about myself (and start going “woe is me”).
It seems to me that all the people who are trying to change and make their lives better do things they are afraid of: whirlwind relationships, crazy hobbies (skydiving, etc), quitting jobs and going on vacation. You could join the peace corps…
But I guess the person who mentioned the Thoreau quote was most right. Someone I know mentioned that the reason The Matrix resonated so much with people was because the message was “This ISN’T all there is to life.” But the question is, if you’re going to live outside the lines, live more than you see of life now, how are you going to do it? Make some goals and paths to them is all I can figure.
I wish you well.
Show us your ta-ta’s!!
I’d tell you that insider info being what it is, it isn’t any more shocking than anything else, just sad. It’s sad to be wrong and it’s often yet, sadder to be completely right. And you aren’t being secretive, nor dishonest. On any given day select people in my life know select aspects of it. You can’t tell everyone everything. If for no reason other than you’d get nothing else done in life and you’d suffer from exhaustion. Besides, you don’t owe us shit
well… you do owe me partner-in-crimeness at a certain upcoming party. Yes. You def. owe me that.
and some cds were made for coasterdom. How else does one explaining owning the soundtrack to The Specialist?
And the card ROCKED. ::hugs::
Michael, very touched by your comments, but even people who do the whirlwind things get depressed. If the only thing causing unhappiness is boredom, that’s easy to solve. There’s no excuse for boredom. If self-pity is the cause, doing for others helps that one. Volunteer at an animal shelter for a day… you’ll feel better instantly about your own plight. And if you need a philosophical hit, read Victor Frankel, a survivor of the camps who discovered transcendant capabilities of man in the most hideous circumstances. Lasting happiness isn’t a product of this world and people who seek that might want to try crack. The buddha appears to be happy all of the time, but most people would be loathe to pursue the buddha’s disciplines. Loving oneself (and not in the usual narcissistic way), doing something once in a blue moon for others, exploring this great wonderful nutso evil good world…those things will enrich the ordinary human being and even the extraordinary human being.
hi there fish.
I know what you’re talking about. The fun and necessity and freshness of putting my voice out there is such a draw about having a blog. Self expression is like oxygen. But then you realize that real live people in your flesh and blood life are reading it and revising their opinions about you in a way that feels strange and out of control, so you start writing for your audience and suddenly the blog voice is a character and a caricature and feels fakey-fake and like an obligation not a delight or a relief.
I don’t know what to do about that. My blog is not anonymous so I haven’t ever been as free as you have, but I try to be as truthful as I can. Sometimes that means leaving stuff out but it’s not worth doing if I can’t talk about me and tell the truth. I fumble along. Sometimes I say more than I should, sometimes I self-edit the hardest stuff out.
I don’t know you in real life but I check in to see how you’re doing. I like the voice you have created. I care about whether you’re sad or optimistic or ambitious. I like the things you notice. You don’t owe your readers anything, but we owe you thanks, for creating a life and a character who speaks with a fresh voice. If you find a way to keep doing that online that doesn’t cripple your daily life, we’ll be delighted. If not, we’ll have to buy your book instead….
Why do you suppose all these people read your blog? This is your answer. We all go through the same things, but we all feel alone and isolated. Your blog is an antidote. I don’t know you IRL at all, and in fact don’t even recall how I found your blog, although it was probably a link of a link of a link of a friend, but I identify with even the weirdest andf most mundane things you’ve written.
Now THAT is what we’ve all been waiting for – some DAMN good writing. Your ability to express your emotions and state of mind is fantastic. Sorry you’re going through all that – a time of assessment? But I can really relate. This is a strange world. I want to say something cheering but it’s all cliche’s! Oh well. I’m a daily reader.
Very moving entry resounding with truth….thanks for sharing…
i would say, “thanks for sharing”
I think most of us are living a life of quiet desperation but aren’t brave enough to admit it. Thank GOD you are- it makes it a little less lonely out here.
Moire and the Lurkers
Your friends know the truth about you, what ever form that may be. The truth is one of those things that does not always stay constant, it can change over time and develop. Also, keep in mind it is one thing to think something in your head – it is a totally different thing to have to admit it out loud.