I've never felt like a real person, if that makes sense. I just don't feel like I'm like everyone else. Not in a superior way, just in a trying to fit a triangle into a square hole way.
I know where it stems from. I isolated myself from people for years and concerned myself with surviving rather than indulging in activities that kids normally got to experience. Not surviving as in hunting for food, but rather trying to scrape myself together long enough to survive my mother.
On the whole I'm doing great emotionally. My depression is infrequent and I don't punish myself anymore. But this is still hanging around like a shadow. I get super jealous of people and a little obsessive. I want to know what people talk about, what they think, what makes them happy, so I can model myself after them and maybe get to experience happiness myself. I don't feel that's unhealthy, because most people want to follow the crowd,, and I am hardly hiding toilet cameras in public stalls. I just find myself absently watching everyone around me wondering and nagging myself how it would feel to not be me.
I have so much that I WANT, from material things to friends to stability that I feel way behind on. Like I haven't developed and all I am is an animated blob of flesh. And It's hard for me not to keep hating my mother for it, but that's a while different issue. I am concerned that I'll be trapped in this pocket of frustration forever.
I want the jealousy to go away. I want to make progress again. I want to atop feeling like I'm less than anyone else because I missed out on so much.
Post edited at 2:55 pm on April 29, 2012 by Anonymice
Like a runaway