A Few Heart-Breaking Frustrations

In a few months I'll be heading back to my original home town to visit my family and friends, and I am exceptionally nervous. I will admit, I still hold some internal and semi-irrational grudges towards that town. Not that I really enjoyed my young adult years in this new one either. :P I never enjoyed the really religious feel of that small town, with lots "I'll pray for you"s or "It's God's will"s, and I enjoy it even less now that I have deviated from the religion I grew up with.

I feel as if I should be ashamed of the path I've chosen because I have disappointed so many people (even though a lot of people don't know it yet), but I refuse to just denounce my own thoughts for the sake of someone else's. It still hurts though to know that you've caused your parents' disappointment, yet I know that they hurt too because in their eyes I suppose I've gone down the wrong path.

At the exact same time, I have a hard time understanding why it effects them so much. I haven't used my beliefs or thoughts to belittle them or used them in hate. I haven't forced it upon them and I'm happy to answer any of their questions. I haven't kept it a secret, I've been completely open. It's not a cult (which I loosely define as having a charismatic all-knowing leader that gets followers to cut off their ties to everything outside of the group) and it's not a way of rebelling.

Just having a different view disappoints them and it's really hard for me to understand because I've felt Christianity pushed on me. I was not given a choice but Christianity, although I really appreciate my parents understanding of my struggle with it. I have people saying they'll pray for me or that God and Satan are waging a war in my mind, and I just have to accept it because "it's the intention that matters". Yet if I even dared to wear a pentagram, I don't think I'd even be allowed in their house. (FYI, the pentagram is not a sign of Satanism, the reversed pentagram is. Like the reversed cross, the reversed pentagram in modern use represents the opposite of the original symbol)

But I have to just accept it. Because it's their house and they have their rules. Somedays I think I can't wait to own my own house so I can force them to remove their cross and stare at my pentagram just out of spite, although I would never do so. It frustrates me that my parents won't allow tarot cards in their house, but I go along with it because of social expectations and I don't want them to feel like my spiritual view supersedes my respect for them (It doesn't, I value my family above all else).

I'd really like to come out with every one. I'd like to display that secret pagan board on Pinterest and wear a silver pentagram around my neck. But I don't think people are ready to understand it. Honestly, I feel that if I were to reveal it now, I would need to book a hotel room for my visit because I won't be allowed to stay in anyone's house.

Because of that, I don't really want to go. It hurts me that simply being honest about having a different view will completely change their perspective of me, although I don't entirely blame them. Yet, I hate the double standards. I can almost imagine not being allowed to talk to my young cousins (even though I would never bring up my own spirituality other than to say it's different if asked by them. The general view is not to convert and to wait until a child is eighteen before engaging in conversations about it if you're not their parent). I cannot say I'll pray for them unless I pray to their God (which doesn't really make sense because their god is a form of the divine, so they're very much the same), I cannot openly display my spirituality for fear of offending them, and I have to be afraid of losing them.

It's a very nerve-wrecking situation, that I'm not entirely sure how to deal with. I guess it'll just have to be a secret until I'm fully self-sufficient. Which is another 5 years... sigh

Acceptance

So, after my melodramatic post the other day I've realized that it may not have been the best way to reveal something although it was honest and in the moment of how I felt. I don't regret it right now, it would suck if I did, just have to deal with the aftermath.

This post somewhat ties in with it. I was journaling today and although I won't say what exactly I wrote, I though I'd share some thoughts just for the sake of sharing them. The reason I felt this strong desire to "come out of the broom closet" as a pagan witch, was my friends. This last year I've met a group of people who have (so far) completely accepted me without judgement or half-lies where I hid part of me to prevent judgement. People that like the same shows I do, who will gladly go what a fantasy movie with me and have curiosities similar to mine.

I can't stress how important that was for me. I'd never really had a close friend (or family member) who liked the same stuff I did, I just got used to feeling like the weird, eccentric one that people joked about and gave surprised "oh, really"s. It's nice to have them still spend time with me and value me even though they don't really understand, but to have someone who will gladly be eccentric with you and have the same excitement you do is completely different.

Insert warning about teenagers (although I am no longer one) abandoning their families to be a part of a friend group who will later ditch or use them here.

Yeah, I understand that, but it's so nice not to feel like the weird one! I have not changed one aspect of myself to fit into this group; I did not become pagan to fit in, I did not start dressing differently or watching different shows, etc. I was lead here out of my own curiosity and longing, and yes maybe my interaction with this group let some curiosity flourish, but it was always underneath the surface anyway. I was just afraid of revealing it before, of being made out as more weird than acceptable.

I would gladly buy my childhood friends a bible, a cross or talk with them about how they feel their relationship with God is going (provided they do not attempt to tell me I'm going to hell or try and convert me), and I will let them pray to God for me. Yet, I feel as if they would never ever do that for me. Ever. And if I ever said I'd pray for them, they would tell me to stop (btw, my faith doesn't believe that doing something against someone's will so it would be wrong to pray for them no matter how good my intentions are).

I want to feel the same kind of acceptance I feel when my parents send me links to tiny houses, where they are participating in my life without criticizing or trying to change it. They don't have to like the idea of tiny houses, but the recognize that I do and send what they come across my way or try to help me further my ideas. I cannot tell you how happy and safe I feel emotionally when they just send me a simple picture.

I don't expect that to happen right away. Knowing my family they will have a lot of questions, which is fair because I had a lot for them. My immediate family I have no doubt will at least tolerate me, with the occasional "that's complete bullshit, why would you believe in that" and so on. I expect it and know that they'll learn to get along eventually :)

A New Journal and Self-Identification

The other day I did end up picking up a journal and have decided to attempt to write in it. The nice things about a journal is that I know no one will read it for awhile and I can feel free to write about anything I want without fear of offending or having someone feel disappointed in me or my thoughts.

The downside is that I'm not sharing with I think with anyone else, so I don't get feedback on my thoughts. Unlike writing a blog, where I can pretend that someone is reading and understanding it right now, whereas no one might ever read my journal or realize how brilliant I really am. I'm not even joking about that last part, the egotist in me thinks that I am the most amazing thing on planet earth and people should be in awe of me. It's a weird situation because I'm part egotist and at the same time tend to dish out a lot of self-hate. I'm not sure how to feel about this. 

Anyway, the reason for this post, besides informing you that I may or may not continue to post on this blog, is confess a few current secrets that might offend my family. Why, who knows. I might be crazy. So let's begin. If I wind up disowned, this will be the moment. If not, then I guess they like me enough to keep around for awhile. 

I don't feel like my name fits me. I don't know what it is about it that makes it feel like it doesn't fit, but it just doesn't. Some of my nicknames feel ok (Leeshka and Leeshbet, I have no idea how they would be spelt), but my name (all three included) just feels odd. Don't ask me what would feel better, I don't really know. 

The feeling got worse after I started to work and everyone called me something similar but never my own name. I don't feel a connection to those wrong names either. Even telling people my name doesn't feel right. It could just be that it's how I'm feeling now, I don't know. 

I've thought about changing it, even though I don't have the names picked out yet, but am not sure how my family would take it. Probably not well. I'd probably be mocked for it and be gossiped about in private while slowly becoming that family member. 

Of course, I'm well on my way to becoming it, the stupid liberal hippie. Hell, even my dad thinks I'm going to turn into one. He's said it enough when talking about the philosophy course I'm taking in the winter. Then comes the confusion of is it wrong to be myself or at least how I perceive myself? Or should try to fit in or constantly care about not offending someone? 

SO CONFUSED!!! This is what happens when I have a restless night! 

Also, I'm a pagan witch. Tah-dah!

Philosophical Debates and the Slow Loss of My Mind

I love it how a single quote can cause my brain to spin out without any warning, and how I desperately need to write about it even though a part of me feels that it's completely useless because who wants to read about any of my philosophical ideas. It doesn't help that philosophy usually winds up with (as my dad put it) young adults talking about the meaning of life in a bar, showing off their intelligence and pretending that they are incredibly wise. That's paraphrasing of course, ain't no body got time to pay attention to their ranting parents. 

I'm not currently in a bar, nor do I have anyone to share my intelligence with save for the World Wide Web where this post will likely become lost is a jumble of cat gifs and badly misspelled Facebook updates, so we can pretend that I'm not egotistical even though we all know I am. 

The quote was just a stupid one line thing with no real deeper meaning; all it said was "I'd rather have an enemy who says they hate than a friend who secretly puts me down". I thought about it and realized that no, at this point in my life I'd rather live with the illusion that I'm well liked. Which means as long as I never find out that you hate my guts, I will happily accept the illusion as reality. Technically the illusion is only an illusion to those who know you hate my guys and reality to everyone else, so I doubt I'd be the only one living in reality 2.0. 

Here's where my brain starts wildly spinning for no reason, what makes reality reality and illusion illusion? Is reality reality simply because the majority believes it, because in that case we could say that since the only person who knows you hate me is you and the rest of the world sees us as friends, doesn't that mean that your hate for me is merely an illusion and our friendship is reality? 

To continue, does that mean that everyone lives an illusion based on their own perspectives so no one lives in reality at all? Is going by the majority even a good idea? We do it all the time for everything from grades, to sanity, to what we determine as healthy, etc. If we don't go by the majority then what the hell could we go by? Why do I even give a shit?

That is how erratic my thoughts can get, and we haven't even touched on if philosophy matters especially when we're under the reign of science, why we have a desire to debate what can never be proven, why are ideas like religion or spirituality needed, and how our all these thoughts are merely a series of neurons firing and what is consciousness. Whew, I'm pretty sure my head is dangerously close to spontaneous combustion. Also why do I care some much about disappointing them that I get nightmares about getting the wrong rental car?

Dating Issues

I feel a little ridiculous for constantly whining about my little problems; I recognize that I'm a very lucky individual and don't really have a difficult life. There are times when I just want to shut up and not bother to speak to anyone about the things that upset me in one way or another. Sometimes even blogging about it seems self-focused and attention seeking, like one of those "Shit White Girls Say" posts. 

I can't say for sure that I'm not seeking attention,  and I will admit to being self-focused, but I realize that bottling things up isn't healthy either. In fact, if I don't organize my thoughts I will wind up with a miserable night's sleep. I've thought about switching to hand-writing a diary, but I just worry that no one will know what's going on with me. Either way, the blog stays for now and I will continue to whine so feel free to ignore me.

I'm very muddled and confused today, I don't entirely know what's going in my head but I hope getting rid of a couple of thoughts that have been plaguing me recently will help me at least get a good night's sleep. 

For some reason, apparently I have decided that I need a boyfriend. What caused it, I don't know. I don't even know why I need one, except maybe for the expectation that I should have one by now. Plus, I think the teenage romantic ideal finally turned on in my head, which is terribly annoying and I wish I didn't have it because I don't have any romantic ideas about how a relationship will be. I don't expect a rom-com type of deal, more of just an "I tolerate this person" thing. 

It doesn't help that I work with a bunch of guys who are constantly questioning how odd I am for not having really dated anyone or for my unique likes in terms of hobbies. They find it weird that I've never gotten drunk, never go to parties, and enjoy just being at home. With all the questions and reactions, it starts to make you think.

I like who I am, I like me a lot. I enjoy getting excited over characters in tv shows, movies or books, and having a ton of information crammed into this skull. I like spending time by myself, I don't feel the need to drink a lot, and parties are filled with boring small-talk. Yet, I still worry that being me makes me too much of an outcast. 

I worry that I'm going to have to settle for the first guy my age who shows an interest in me, and I don't want to hang out with a partier who thinks of me as weird. I'd much rather prefer someone who's fine with just hanging out and watching movies. I guess I'm just worried that there's no one who would want to date me, as ridiculous as that sounds. 

Pretending

I think after awhile whining about your problems to people just becomes boring or pointless. That doesn't include this blog, by the way, here I mostly whine to myself. Constantly talking about being down just makes relationships awkward, no one likes the person that goes on an on about how shitty their life is. So, I just spend my time pretending that I'm ok. Of course, the frustration sneaks out every now and then, so someone asks why you're so quiet or how you're feeling. Usually I just brush it off with an I'm just tired today or I can't think of anything to say, it's just easier that way.

The only thing about pretending is that eventually it can get dangerous and you can wind up in an endless thought cycle, and no one knows. Which is why I like to blog about it rather than writing in a private diary. A few people I know have access to this so they at least know where I'm at and can attempt to intervene if it gets bad. 

I hate having to burden people with my problems, plus I'm old enough that I shouldn't have to rely on someone else to solve things for me, although I recognize that every now and then you do need help, but every down cycle shouldn't require someone.

Pretending is just easier than having to explain everything to someone who's heard it a million times. It helps to avoid lectures or the same envitable advice always given, and sometimes talking to someone just makes you feel more like shit than before. I hate explaining to others when I feel self-conscious about my appearance and would rather leave the store and deal with it myself. I don't want pity or people trying to cheer me up or make me feel better about myself.

I just don't want the stupid sympathy or deep talks. I want someone to know what's going on so they understand that I'm not trying to offend them, but I don't want pitying talk afterwards. 

Titles are Annoying

I've been feeling a little down the past few days, finding comfort in staying silent and being left alone. There are so many factors as to why, and I hope to explore some of them in this post. It may be a bit disconnected and hard to follow, but I blog more for my own sake than for readability. It's similar to a diary, with a few secrets left out to avoid hurting others, since I love being honest.

I've never really been confident in how a look and I hate to say it, but I often compare myself quite unfairly to my younger sister, a habit that I picked up after my mom mentioned comparing herself to her sister. I rarely ever reach the standards I have in my own mind and jealousy along with self-hatred quickly run me over. I try so hard to change my thoughts and be more kind to myself, but it feels like a losing battle. If I was true to myself, how I look wouldn't ever matter, since I value far more in myself than merely my appearance. I'd much rather be kind and compassionate, it makes me feel happier anyway, or intelligent and understanding. I want to cry when I think that I've been taught to worry more about my looks than my compassion, and although I wish to blame it on society, I know it can't be just it.

I have a hard time with my insecurity regarding how young I look, or when I think of the fact that I've only ever been on a single date, even though I really don't care whether or not I have a boyfriend. I think it just bothers me because it's almost like an expectation or sign that you're normal. I'm tired of worrying what kind of aura I give, whether I appear to be insecure or snobby or mad in other peoples minds. I don't want to care if the air I give is of someone who doesn't need a date. It shouldn't be important to me, I have so much else to offer that has far more value.

I want to be happy with me. I want to hide myself away and not spend a second worrying about how my outfit looks or if my hair's too greasy. I want to spend my time devoted to learning new things, gardening, playing with animals and just enjoying life. Why must I care so much about others minds?

And talking with my family has done nothing to ease it. Am I so conceited that every single conversation must be about me? Is that all I know? Am I trying to say things just for the emotional impact or do I actually believe it? I feel like such a conceited, lazy-ass who just spends her time bitching to people about society's rules.

I just want to quit life and hide. I want to be completely alone. I don't want to see or be around anyone, but rather than just whine about it I've tried look up ways that I could maintain my life without going outside. I've looked up so many online jobs, thought about selling things on Etsy and looked up prices of acreages everywhere in the province. I've read books on building houses and being off the grid. I'm trying to get there, and I'm not entirely sure what I'd do once I'm there.