Once Upon A Time

I used to be an outgoing person. I think a part of me still is, but I care too much about what others think of me. Well, I’ve always cared too much, but I used to be way better at hiding it. Even as I write this and as I think about the other posts I’ve made, I worry about what you will think. Do I know you? Are you going to Google me to find out more about me? Are you going to read more? Are you going to think to yourself “how pathetic is she?” 

I often forget why I even started this blog. Why did I start this blog? Oh, right, I started it as an outlet for myself as well as a way to let others know they are not alone in their suffering. We may have different situations, but we feel the same. Or maybe you have a loved one whom you don’t quite understand what they’re going through because you’ve never experienced it yourself, maybe I’m able to give a little insight. I dunno, hopeful thinking. 

Back to my original topic; I used to be outgoing. I used to love being in large crowds, smiling at strangers, having random conversations, etc. any time, anywhere, anyone. Now I generally dislike being among people. I’m picky about the crowds I go to and if I’m in a crowd I don’t want to be in, but it’s unavoidable (the grocery store or other shopping centers) I’m irritated and stick to what I went in for so I can get the hell out. Maybe it’s because I’ve grown up. Maybe it’s because I’ve grown wise to the ways of the world. Or maybe it’s because I isolated myself for four years and, as much as I hated it, grew used to being away from the world. 

Or all of the above. 

I miss how I used to be, but I don’t know if I can be that person again while living this life. They don’t seem to mix well. 


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