admitting our mistakes can sometimes be a bigger challenge than learning from them
So I did what I said I wouldn't do- deleted not one, but all 3 posts off of here regarding my stress last week of exams.
Why?
I'm not sure. I think it has something to do with coming to my senses that ok, maybe I shouldn't have ranted on here because it wasn't the most constructive thing to do, and that I quite obviously did not like comments recieved on it because it not only hurt, but angered me that no-one could see my POV even when I'd tried to (what I thought was) rationally explain my motives behind the rant. I've not posted since because of it, because I've been mulling over whether I should really have a blog if I dislike comments that are posted on it. I've also been mulling it over because I'm not sure I should write a blog; I'm not sure that what I write should be read if you see what I mean. I warned when I started this that I needed some space here to rant occasionally, but in retrospect I don't think this is the right place, because clearly some poeple misinterpret it and take offence. Offence is the last thing I want to cause and so I didn't write.
I missed it a bit. But not fanatically. I use this mostly instead of my diary, which I've severely neglected since November when I wrote about my Grandad dying. I didn't want to write in it after that as it upset me too much to read over what was written. It still does, so I'm still avoiding my diary. I did need somewhere else to write things down though, and that has become here. Maybe though I am better suited to my diary, where things are private and kept private; where they cannot be judged or cause offence.
Somehow though I'm reluctant to give this up, mostly I think because this is how I've been communicating with people, especially those like Meryn and Kirsty who are far away and whom I miss terribly as friends. Also though to those that are closer to me, I'm not a good person when it comes to communication. I don't DO communication very well, which is odd perhaps for someone in my job. If I was a young person coming to me saying these things, I'd encourage me to go and talk to my friends about issues, instead of just clamming up and hiding in my room for days and sometimes weeks. I'd reassure myself that actually they wouldnt' think me stupid or stark raving mad. And yet, somehow even though I know all this deep down inside, I still don't talk. It's my biggest fault. I know some people think I'm being deliberately awkward when I do that, sit in my room, don't talk, cry at night, and I know I am being awkward, but it's not that deliberate, it's just that I honestly don't know how to properly talk to people. I never have. I've never ever done that. Never sat down to someone and talked. See I can write this, and I can even write this knowing that people will read it, but I could never actually say this to someone; not unless I was really really close to them, like Mike. Mike knows these things, but it took me a while to confide in him as to how I am.
I've just never let myself get close to people, I'm afraid of being hurt like I was once before. And I know that you should never let past experiences marr the present, but they do, everyone has at least one that does have some impact on the present. This is mine. I dont' even know where this is going. I'm just writing for the sake of writing maybe, maybe for my own sanity. I don't know any more.
I can't talk any more about anything, because I'm getting too upset now and I'll say things, not that I don't want people to know, but that I'm not ready to admit to people just yet. All I ask at the moment is for some understanding and patience from my friends. And to forgive me if I'm short tempered, or angry for no reason, or if I inadvertantly annoy them or offend them. And whilst it may sometimes look like I'm pushing people away, really, I'm crying out for some help and support.
Forgive me.
x
Why?
I'm not sure. I think it has something to do with coming to my senses that ok, maybe I shouldn't have ranted on here because it wasn't the most constructive thing to do, and that I quite obviously did not like comments recieved on it because it not only hurt, but angered me that no-one could see my POV even when I'd tried to (what I thought was) rationally explain my motives behind the rant. I've not posted since because of it, because I've been mulling over whether I should really have a blog if I dislike comments that are posted on it. I've also been mulling it over because I'm not sure I should write a blog; I'm not sure that what I write should be read if you see what I mean. I warned when I started this that I needed some space here to rant occasionally, but in retrospect I don't think this is the right place, because clearly some poeple misinterpret it and take offence. Offence is the last thing I want to cause and so I didn't write.
I missed it a bit. But not fanatically. I use this mostly instead of my diary, which I've severely neglected since November when I wrote about my Grandad dying. I didn't want to write in it after that as it upset me too much to read over what was written. It still does, so I'm still avoiding my diary. I did need somewhere else to write things down though, and that has become here. Maybe though I am better suited to my diary, where things are private and kept private; where they cannot be judged or cause offence.
Somehow though I'm reluctant to give this up, mostly I think because this is how I've been communicating with people, especially those like Meryn and Kirsty who are far away and whom I miss terribly as friends. Also though to those that are closer to me, I'm not a good person when it comes to communication. I don't DO communication very well, which is odd perhaps for someone in my job. If I was a young person coming to me saying these things, I'd encourage me to go and talk to my friends about issues, instead of just clamming up and hiding in my room for days and sometimes weeks. I'd reassure myself that actually they wouldnt' think me stupid or stark raving mad. And yet, somehow even though I know all this deep down inside, I still don't talk. It's my biggest fault. I know some people think I'm being deliberately awkward when I do that, sit in my room, don't talk, cry at night, and I know I am being awkward, but it's not that deliberate, it's just that I honestly don't know how to properly talk to people. I never have. I've never ever done that. Never sat down to someone and talked. See I can write this, and I can even write this knowing that people will read it, but I could never actually say this to someone; not unless I was really really close to them, like Mike. Mike knows these things, but it took me a while to confide in him as to how I am.
I've just never let myself get close to people, I'm afraid of being hurt like I was once before. And I know that you should never let past experiences marr the present, but they do, everyone has at least one that does have some impact on the present. This is mine. I dont' even know where this is going. I'm just writing for the sake of writing maybe, maybe for my own sanity. I don't know any more.
I can't talk any more about anything, because I'm getting too upset now and I'll say things, not that I don't want people to know, but that I'm not ready to admit to people just yet. All I ask at the moment is for some understanding and patience from my friends. And to forgive me if I'm short tempered, or angry for no reason, or if I inadvertantly annoy them or offend them. And whilst it may sometimes look like I'm pushing people away, really, I'm crying out for some help and support.
Forgive me.
x
posted by Culinali at 6:08 pm
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