I’m the type of person who usually labels themselves as introverted, reticent, or a loner. And usually I am introverted, reticent, and a loner. Which is expected from someone who spends a lot of time in solitude. But the truth is, I have this side of me that’s the complete opposite. I sometimes surprise myself when I find that I’m eager to be in the company of other, when I automatically smile when someone recognizes me or introduces themselves, and especially when I start the conversations and introduce myself.

It’s quite hard dealing with these two sides of me, but I guess this is what it’s like to have a polarized personality. 

I don’t like to be mean. I’m not fond of despising people. But sometimes, I can’t help but think homicidal thoughts due to the masses of incompetent people that surround me daily. Excuse me for not being a bit more empathetic. I’m just sick of having to deal with these obviously not yet fully-evolved creatures. I’m not saying that I’m utterly superior to them, because I’m not. I just strongly dislike it when these people refuse to actually listen to instructions or what not, and end up complaining that they don’t know what to do. It’s disgusting. And more often than not, I’m burdened with having to fill them in and take responsibility. Why can’t people comprehend that they can’t just fool around their entire lives? When are they going to realize that they need to grow up and be responsible for themselves?

It feels so inexplicably good to just cry sometimes. The act of such can really make me feel like some of my sorrow and sadness have escaped with the tears. But I can never be fully satisfied. After all, the reasons I first had the sorrow are much too great. Nonetheless, whenever I’m done crying, I always feel a little better. Tear-stained cheeks, a drenched shirt, a pile of discarded tissues, and a sober and rational mindset not intoxicated with misery are the results I tend to end up with after a truly good cry. 

I hate it when people unnecessarily annoy me when I’m eating. Especially when I’m eating something delicious. Why? Well because they make it impossible for me to enjoy my food. I mean seriously! My entire appetite becomes ruined beyond repair and that makes me upset.

I think my parents may have anger-management issues. They can make big deals out of the smallest dilemmas. They can get angry for the wrong reasons or at the wrong people, mostly me. I try to understand why they get so forceful and severe, but it’s hard.  

They each have their own ways of being harsh. For instance, my mom gets mad more often, but because they are so common, her tirades are mildly abrasive and I get used to and learn to deal with them, thus being mainly unaffected. My father, on the other hand, is usually easy to get along with, after all I did grow up as daddy’s little girl. But when he does get infuriated, it is infrequent, extreme, and just scary. He can be that way for days, screaming at the top of his lungs and right in my face. And since I’m not used to it and honestly quite petrified, I cower whenever he demands a response which just makes him angrier when I don’t reply accordingly.  

Sometimes, I feel like the world is conspiring to create lots of reasons for my parents to get upset with me. Sometimes, I also just don’t get why they’re irate and spend the duration of their lectures scoffing at them (scoffing, I’ve noticed, makes me feel more confident so I always look for errors in their reprimands). I feel like I’m destined to be an eternal disappointment, not that I particularly try to satisfy after how they treat me. 

My parents are pretty intense. Now, that can be interpreted in several ways, but right now, I’m talking about some negative ways. They never seem to understand that I’m not exactly normal. I might have some mental disorders or something, I might even be crazy. I just know that I have a different way of thinking, thus a different way of acting. They don’t comprehend that I have my own reasons that although they make perfect sense to me, are hard to explain to others. They don’t recognize that I’m extremely sensitive and fragile; emotionally, mentally, and even physically speaking. 

Therefore, they abuse me without a thought, through their merciless words and hits. Even though they don’t go to lengths that threaten my life so to speak (other than the one instance they drove me to seriously consider suicide), they do enough damage to leave me broken again and again. What’s worse is that I have no one to help put the pieces back together. Sure I have friends, but none that I ever got the chance to get really close to. Of course, this circles back to my parents either not approving of them or trying to “protect” me. I try to be strong because of that, since if I’m not strong, then I’m pretty much done for. I would be as good as dead. And I know that I shouldn’t give up so easily.  

I don’t get why people insist on talking so much sometimes. I already try to be discreet in letting them know that at times I have no interest in hearing what they have to say. I even go through the trouble of putting in my earphones and listening to music. Unfortunately, they can get relentless and talk endlessly. I’m not trying to be offensive, I just have my own troubles and thoughts that I need to deal with. And it’s not like I can just turn the volume to the loudest point or totally ignore them. My ears are sensitive and I subconsciously try to hear them despite knowing that doing so would make me feel worse. By the way, I only refuse to listen to people talk when my own problems are so burdening that my emotions are hard to control. However, despite my attempts, they always end up getting mad at me for not responding. That in turn, strikes a chord in me especially when I’m already a bit too sensitive. I just don’t know why they can’t take the hint, why they can’t just understand and leave me be.

Being a part of Tumblr for over a year, I have noticed that some people are very… indifferent to the opinions of others. Or so they constantly proclaim via “I don’t give a fuck about what people think.” If you ask me, despite having an air of confidence or whatnot, they are acting pretty ignorant and rude. I mean it’s great that they aren’t letting the opinions of others affect them too severely, but when they say that it makes them sound like they’re totally uncaring. 

I know I’m probably just over-analyzing what’s supposed to be a facetious phrase. I tend to do that. But that doesn’t mean I don’t get offended when people tell me that they don’t care about what I think. Because most of the time, what I think isn’t too harmful and the least they can do is be a little bit more considerate. I already know that over half of the people who have uttered/blogged that sentence genuinely don’t mean it. I know that they do give a fuck, even if it’s a minuscule one. 

I have many flaws. So many, I’m making another post about them. Don’t bother telling me otherwise or that I’m perfect just the way I am. I know that’s not true. I’m not being self-deprecating or pessimistic. In fact, I have learned to accept many of my flaws. But then again, just because I accept them, doesn’t mean that I’m truly okay with them. It doesn’t mean that I don’t have trouble dealing with them. In addition, in spite of having accepted some of my imperfections, I do not appreciate them being constantly pointed out. I’m still pretty insecure. I’m trying my best and I’d rather do so without people trying to “help” me. 

They’re fighting again. This time about trust. With the door open, I can hear every word, every curse, stomp, and slam. The sounds are so loud that they’re piercing. They are piercing the heart of a daughter whose family is falling apart.

I’ve never really been a people person. I would hardly ever go up to people and strike up a conversation then actually manage to keep it going. Nope. What is usual for me is to just keep to myself, not socializing yet not lonely either. And that’s just on my good days. On the other hand, some days I tend to… well, feel intense emotions towards the surrounding people that aren’t particularly good. This is one of those days.

Warning: The following is a rant after having dealt with several individuals of the human race for too long, much to the author’s utter and obvious dismay. Proceed with extreme caution.

I just can’t stand people. I can’t be with and around the same people for more than five days. I can hardly bear them for one day, let alone FIVE. If you haven’t noticed, I get highly irritable. I can’t even stand my own family for that long. My own family, for goodness’ sake! I need solitude and alone time. And I need it in daily doses of at least three hours. What I don’t need is their constant presence and not to mention their tendencies to talk to me and expect me to respond.

Rant over. Proceed normally.

Speaking of their tendencies, people have proven time and time again that there is no good trying to tolerate them. Many of them have grown far too ignorant and insensitive. Such results make me lose hope… They hurt each other so easily it’s rather intimidating. They even hurt me. I find myself saying that I ‘hate them with a burning passion’ a lot. And maybe I do. But then I realize, that reacting this way makes me no better than them. When I say that, I, too, become ignorant. 

High school. The newest challenge thrown into my already difficult life. The mere thought of it makes me feel a whole bunch of emotions. Fear. Uncertainty. Fear. Anxiety. Fear. Dread. Fear. I get that this is the usual reaction, but that doesn’t lessen the overwhelming feelings I have.

I’ve been attending private schools my whole life. I’ve always been around the same people and the same environment. Lately, the school has been becoming more isolated, especially compared to the public schools of the same age group. I’ve also been feeling more pressured to do more than well and exceed their standards, which, belonging to a private school, are pretty darn high. I am scared that if I do continue my education in these types of schools, I’ll fall behind. I’ll be dragged down with my weakness. 

This was the future that I have been picturing for a long time. There was no other option for me. I was forever doomed to this. That is, until a few hours ago. My mom randomly asked me if I wanted to attend the local public high school instead of my usual private one. It was so out of the blue, I was caught off-guard. 

You see, I have this really wild imagination that is fueled by all the fiction books I read and movies I watch. So naturally, I would spent some time creating these alternate futures for me. Many of which include going to a public high school, getting the best grades, meeting a guy…, etc. And when I heard my mom’s question, it was these dreams that I thought of immediately, so I accepted the option of inquiring for an education there.

If only I thought practically. 

I realized that in comparison to my private school, public school has more pressures from society and your peers. There’s the perpetual caution of trying not to embarrass yourself in front of your thousands of classmates, of trying to impress the others, of fitting in. These issues are only multiplied when applied to me. I am your typical socially awkward and overweight teenage girl. I have so much more insecurities. 

Now, I have two possible futures. Both with imposing threats and hassles, but in different forms. 

High school. Two words that can trigger one general emotion. Fear.

Being the inexplicably and extremely insecure person I am, I tend to notice and look for my flaws. One of them, I have to admit is my indecisiveness. I doubt I would be able to make a decision and be perfectly content with it even if the fate of humanity depended on it (ignoring the fact that I really don’t care for a considerable amount of humanity). I can rarely make up my mind. And that’s something about me that has not only proven to be rather inconvenient to myself, but also to others. People get irritated. I understand that. It’s why I care so little for society. (Wow. I keep pointing out that I am pretty much antisocial. Sorry.) Yeah. Just wanted to express how this is truly something I doubt I can improve about me. Ha. I’m awkward. Sorry.

I always thought of myself as deep and understanding, especially on emotional levels. In fact, sometimes I find that I inflict emotions on myself to have a better understanding on how it feels. For example, when I’m reading a book and a character gets injured, I imagine myself getting injured the same way, not just some person. Another situation involves inevitable events that will happen in my life and that I will have to deal with, like the death of a family member. Indeed, I envision that situation a lot, for I fear the moment when it will truly happen and thus I want to prepare. I guess I generally like to have things in my perspective, my POV. I want knowledge of the endless emotions of the world. Haha, I’m weird, aren’t I?

For the past couple of months, I have commenced this sort of self-discovery process, delving deep into my mind and analyzing my every thought and action. This little process of mine included taking some personality tests online. Not the phony quizzes made by bored teens with results like emo or nerd, but the real deal. I have become very intrigued by my findings, amazed at their accuracy. Moreover, there is so much detail that has been revealed, most of which I have known about but never truly perceived. 

Basically, I am an introverted person with social anxiety. I appear to be very reserved, quiet, calm, and thoughtful. I am extremely sensitive to emotions and the emotional perspective as opposed to logic and the logical perspective. Thus, I often have deep and meaningful insights. I am also a “romantic”. In other words, I live in a world of vivid imagery and imagination. I channel my artistic creativity through intangible methods rather than tangible, for example: I create and dream of imaginary/fantasy worlds. However, I can become lost in my imagination and lackadaisical.