I've thought a lot about my life, and what I want to make out of it; though sometimes I wonder if I'm doing things for me or for someone else. I've truly thought about how many of my dreams were mine and how many were planted. It seems, for so long I've been doing what everyone has told me to do, I can no longer think on my own. I can't make a decision without getting validation from everyone else; for years I always had the mind-set of being seen and not heard. I grew up believing that it didn't matter what I wanted or how I felt; that kind of thinking dragged on for twelve years that even after I left that environment, it still stuck with me. Even though that part of my past is somewhat behind me and I have some family that tell me to live up to my dream, I can't help but feel like the dream I've been trying to achieve is not even mine.
My problem is I'm always trying to make others happy, even if I'm hurting I'd make damn sure I was the only one who would feel it. I told my family one day I how truly felt and the expression that washed over their faces nearly killed me; I hurt them, I knew they were feeling the same thing I was going through and I hated it. I didn't ever want to see it again and I never wanted them to feel what I'm feeling. No matter what it is, what I'm dealing with inside my head I keep it to myself.
Sadly when I'm given a decision, I always choose the one that I'm sure will make others happy; even if I don't like it or hate it I keep my mouth shut. However, I guess when we are given choices we never know how the outcome will turn out; sometimes when we choose, we believe it to be the right thing but end up being wrong. We never know if what we chose was correct, until the end.
"What does your heart tell you?" is something I'm always asked, though I've personally never understood that. My heart stopped working like that years ago, or maybe it never did; all the organ does now is numbingly pump blood and oxygen through my body. Has it been broken too many times to function? or maybe my heart isn't built like the rest? I've made my choices based on other's happiness, not for my own.
Drawing and writing are both something that I love to do, that I'm fairly good at; they are both my way of dealing with things, but I'm not where I want to be with my drawings and my writing, well if we're being honest, mediocre. I don't know if I'm being too hard on myself or I've been told what to do for years and now I can't even think on my own. I can't figure out my own life and I don't know where I'm going.
Would eight year-old me be proud? Would she be shocked at who I've become? Do these random paragraphs of thoughts make sense, probably not. Like I said before, writing helps though sometimes it confuses me even more; now I have to wonder, are these thoughts even mine? Am I slowly going crazy? Without a doubt.
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