*I wrote this when I was in a really depressed state and have added to it as time went on, no one but me has ever seen it but me*
I guess I really don’t know who this letter is supposed to be addressed to but one of these days I’ll figure that out and maybe you’ll end up actually reading this and not locked up in the back woods of my laptop protected by some four character password, which somehow is going to make my thoughts seem that much more protected. I really don’t know the nature of this letter but I guess it stems from the fact that I really don’t know what my state of being can be described as.
After spending the entire night trying to track down Jamie so that my “best friend” Anna could purchase some pot off of him and after rummaging around on some miniature swings made for those pesky little kids half of my size, he finally showed and we then proceeded to pick up another one of Anna’s acquaintances, which I myself am not too familiar with. After taking a dozen or so hits from a bong and a joint, we ate a late night stoner meal of breakfast at midnight. The food itself was perfectly fine but the atmosphere was that of an extremely long silence interrupted by the giggling and dancing of two very high teenage girls. My felling toward their actions are quite biased though because this very moment that I am writing this letter, I tend to lean toward the idea that I no longer feel any sense of emotion. Whilst this may sound absurd and that I’m making this up or that I’ll just grow out of a single phase that my mind has been recently and I’ve grown to believe that I‘ve lost all sense of what things feel like anymore. I could end a day sitting down on a couch starring at the ceiling for the rest of my life and I‘d never feel like I needed to move. I never thought that the hardest question of the day would be “What are you thinking about right now?” Since my mind can no longer function the way I thought it previously did.
After some short conversation with Anna I found that my simplistic approach to life these days probably stems back to the lack of caring I seem to get from both of my parents. To them Jenny and I are just employees and life is just a job. After flipping the dirt bike in Missouri my father didn’t say or do anything to try to help me fix it or my knee which had been bleeding profusely. All he did was continue in his rants about how he doesn’t care about people beating him in any races and that he wasn’t really trying the entire time. My response to this seems to be that if he doesn’t care about what I do then why should I. None of my decisions seem to make any impact on what happens in the end and my life seems pretty inconsequential in the grand scheme of things so what difference does it really make if I attend one school or another, or if I major in one field or a different one. In the end it’s really not a factor so why make it one?
Now I don’t want this letter to seem like I’m writing a suicide note or that I’m in need of a 24 hour watch to make sure I don’t off myself unknowingly. I really don’t want to die or feel like that would solve anything because I really don’t think that anything needs solving at this point. I’m merely trying to write down my thoughts and the things that I think about so that someone else besides me can understand what the hell is going through my head right now.
One of the biggest complaints I have is that I feel as though I think too much. To some people they really don’t understand what this means or what I mean by it so I’d like to take this time to define for everyone what I mean by it. There’s a constant flow of thoughts running through my head at every waking moment. I overanalyse every situation I come across and I make guesses as to how people are going to react and how I can change that reaction. I do this mostly for situations and conversations that previously happen and analyse what would change if I said something different. This leads to me making pretty good judgments as to how people are going to react to anything I tell them and thus I know what they are going to say and how I can get them to say what I want. The downside of this is when things don’t go according to plan and backfire. This typically leads to countless conversations with me laying my ass off to certain people to cover for myself and I usually find a way out of it. These thoughts and simulated conversations happen every time I’m alone and not doing anything else to occupy my mind. Thus it’s pretty difficult to stay still and not think about something for more than a second or two at a time. It is for this reason that I feel as though I think too much.
Now back to the original intent of this letter. I’ve found myself trying to compete with my father for his attention or rather his respect and to be noticed. I’ve spent plenty of money on stuff for the dirt bike and asked him questions that really didn’t need an answer just to try and get some sort of satisfaction and acceptance from him. After trying everything I know of I still try and do things just so he will acknowledge something I do as useful. After every single test or quiz in school, the only ones which receive any sort of response from him is the bad ones, and thus I always feel like even when I do succeed at something, none of it matters to him and for that reason to me anymore. Now after writing all of this to you, I’ve given up on trying to impress anyone with helping where I’m not needed and going out of my way to feel accepted in places where people could care less about what I do or don’t do. For all intents and purposes I lost and I understand that now. What I don’t know is what I can do next to move on from this. After actually writing all of this down it’s evident that I’ve been doing this for the past few years of my life and I don’t know how to stop. It seems weird to just drop everything that I’ve lived for over the supposed best years of my life but none of it seems relevant anymore, because all of it failed. After rereading all of this, it all seems really petty and stupid, and I think that’s why I don’t tell anyone about what I’m thinking anymore. I know anyone I tell will judge me based on some stupid teen movie esc thing that always get resolved with the family smiling and going out for ice cream and everything ending up perfectly happy, but this isn’t the movies and I’m definitely not going to go up to both my parents and tell them how I feel because I can’t afford to let anything get in the way of me going to school in September. The biggest part of the entire thing is that it isn’t some petty thing you hear about in the movies, it’s my physical life and it sucks that instead of enjoying a night out with one beautiful girl, I end up sitting on some swing staring out into the distance and wondering what my life would be like if all of this were different.
No one in the world knows any of what I’m writing to you about and I don’t plan on telling anyone but you about the things that go on in my mind because most of them I can’t physically describe with words. This problem stems all the way back for quite some time. Every time that I am rejected by a girl (and yes it happens a lot) I shift into a sort of depressed state where I don’t know what to do with myself or who I truly am. I second guess my own existence, not in the suicidal way, but in the sense that I no longer seem needed for any work and thus it seems as though I might as well stay home and sleep rather then put myself out there. One of the major topics that you should know about me is my ability to lie, not only to myself but to anyone that bothers to listen to me for more than a minute or two. I realized that many of my friendships, relationships, and communications with other people are sometimes solely based on lies. Though I consider myself to be a pristine liar, and to this day I have never been caught telling someone something different, I still can’t help but believe that most of what I’m saying I personally have thought of as the truth. I guess this letter to you is also a means of conveying only what’s true and events that really happened, not just what I want to have happened.
To start out on this honesty campaign I would like to come clean on a lie that I made up to try and become something that I obviously am not. After prom, my date, Emma, asked to be dropped off at her house to get her car. The original plan was for us to both go to a party and leave in separate cars in the morning. However she decided that she wanted to hook up with another guy, who wasn’t going to this party and wanted me to go by myself. I drove around the dead streets of Farmington and realized that I really didn’t want to go and pretend that I’m having a good time when in reality my mind was in the same place it is now. I drove around for hours, eventually stopping at my friend Sara’s house because I needed to stop thinking to myself and start talking to someone. I told her what had happened and we ended up sitting quietly in my car parked in her driveway for over an hour. Nobody but her knows this. I told everyone that I drove to Boston that night turned around and came back and then proceeded to pick up my friend Michelle, where the lie turns into complete truth. Little discrepancies like this are an attempt from me to disguise my true self. The little things like my honest like of Taylor Swift songs, because they express emotion that I too feel, change who I am in front of different sets of people. After 18 years of this, I am coming to the conclusion that I no longer have a clear picture of who I am as a person. Every action that I take is preceded by the question of who am I trying to make myself out to be in front of this person? And yes, that question does come into play quite often. I guess that my lack of knowledge as to who I truly am is the reason that I never go far into a relationship with girls that I meet. I try and make myself out to be something that I think they want me to be and not who I am as a person, because I never know what type of person I really am.
Though all of this may sound trivial and at this point I really don’t care if you think differently of me or not but I’m surprised that I didn’t do this entire letter years earlier. It started as a means of me to find something or rather some way of describing to someone how I feel at this present moment but it rather turned into a way of describing how I feel about my life. I feel like most of my life is a lie, based on the fact that all of the lies that I tell people I meet on a day to day basis I begin to believe. I’ve learned to forge stories to fit a persona in which I want to be but it never ever works out the way I planned it to.
I’ve found that the only consistency which I have faced over the past few years is my need to feel like I am a strong contributing factor, more so I want to be needed for something. At that point, I feel as though I belong somewhere with a purpose, one that I can’t find anywhere by myself. This translates into my desire to do well in school mainly without even trying. During most projects with other people I put so much pressure onto myself to try and impress the other members of my group for the sole purpose of putting myself in a position where I’m needed, or rather I feel needed. I use little things like these to gauge my usefulness in every aspect of life, which I know has no relation to the other.
As the 20th of July passes and I am preparing for my departure to college next year, I would like to take the time to discuss the friends or supposed friends I have made over the past year or so. I found that after I leave Farmington for the next 5 years and basically the rest of my life, I really won’t miss any of my supposed friends from home. I tell people that I won’t miss anyone but a certain group of my close friends, many a time I’m talking to at that moment and I lie and tell them I’m going to miss them, but the truth is I really won’t. Most of the people that I hang out with on a normal basis is just because it’s convenient to do so, and we share a small common interest, but they really have no idea about anything that goes on in my life and they never will so it really doesn’t matter if I see them again this summer or next or ever for that matter. So far after graduating and shipping off to MO for two weeks, I pictured my arrival back to CT to be that of acceptance and many people trying to get in touch with me to hang out and stuff. I wanted this desperately because it was a means for me to feel accepted and wanted by the people that I’ve known and spent every day with for the past 4 years of my high school career, but that never happened. I think this is the same reason that I have yet to make an appearance at any of the dozen or so graduation parties which I have been invited to. I don’t want to face the reality that many of the people I call friends don’t take the same meaning of that word to heart as I do. I don’t believe my life is worth any more or any less than another’s. I know that every decision I make creates the person I am today, but I still have yet to find who that person is, so I can honestly say that I would give up my life to keep that of someone else’s without hesitation. Most people don’t know that I would do such a thing and even if I told them, they would probably lie and tell me that they would do the same, just so they wouldn’t be judged and such, but I am completely honest when I say that I don’t value my life over anyone.
I try and tell people that I have no regrets in life, but what they don’t know is that I use that as my excuse to justify why I would lay down my life so easily for another person. A man that I work with has a son a year younger with me who had recently had cancer in his hand. The procedure done to him has a success rate of only 50% and he had a very real chance of not making it after the surgery. I was talking to my mother on a drive somewhere and I told her that if I had cancer I wouldn’t let anyone know it. I still hold that to be true.
Though I conceal my true emotions rather well, the last thing I want from people is the thought of someone feeling sorry for me. I never want someone’s pity because it’s worthless. Cancer gives someone the opportunity for two people to feel sad about the same thing, and I would never want that especially around me. It is for this reason that I also don’t want this letter to be thought of as an excuse for someone to feel sorry for me, because it is the furthest thing from my true intentions as can be, and after rounding the fourth page of this endless letter I don’t want to risk anyone feeling guilty for not knowing this or that it’s their fault or some other petty little excuse for them feeling bad for me. All I want is someone to converse with over a similar topic who will accept me for me, and not for the lies that force upon me. Many a time I tell myself that the opinions of others don’t matter to me and that I’m going to do something regardless of what they think, do, or say, when in reality I base everything I have on the opinions of one person. That one person is constantly changing, but it’s almost always a girl which I’m interested in. What most people don’t know about me is the fact that I consider myself to be the most self-conscious person you will ever meet, and I still hold this to be true. Since I really don’t know who I am as a person, I am constantly trying to fake something I’m not in front of another group of people, and thus I have to constantly watch my back. It’s an odd trait which I have adapted throughout the years of trying to be accepted but it all boils down to my desire to feel wanted by someone somewhere.
Now that it’s been quite some time since I last added to this letter to no one and I am currently starting to believe that I am slowly retaining grip on reality, but I still can’t help but think that at most times, myself and the rest of the world doesn’t care about what I do or where I end up. I spent my college orientation with many new people and meeting them from all around the world, but the best part of the entire trip was sitting down on a bench outside and sitting in complete silence next to Anna. Part of me always thought that this letter should be or started out to be addressed to you. Throughout all of our time together the past month or so has definitely been made a lot easier because of you, and I owe you a lot for that. The only regret that I have in life is way back freshman year, when I had to choose you or Renee and I chose the latter. I have no idea what the implications of that are or if you feel anyway at all similar to this but I told myself I would be completely honest in this letter and I am abiding by that rule. Right now, this letter is the only foundation for truth that I have in my life and I have to keep it that way no matter the consequences. I really wish I knew how you feel about us. I know that you are just coming off of a pretty bad breakup and the last thing you want to do is to be in a relationship again, but I can only wait to see if we develop into something as such. If by any chance you actually read this letter and get to this part don’t stop reading. I want you to continue on to the end.
I find it rather odd that the only person that I thought about writing this letter to is the person which currently already knows more about me than anyone else in the world, and I am currently trying to pursue a relationship with, not that I know if she wants to do the same, but I’m too scared to let my guard down that much, so soon. Maybe the venture off to Northeastern with this same girl will help me in my cause. Right now you’re definitely categorized as my best friend and nothing in the world will change that.
I do have a few questions for you though and maybe you could help me answer then. You told me a story about how your ex-boyfriend cheated on you many times and you hate him for that, and then the next week you slept with your friend Mark who had a girlfriend at the time. How was I expected to respond to the question you raised asking if I thought you were a horrible person? On paper you look exactly like your ex does, but there’s no way in hell anything you do will jeopardize my relationship with you because you’re the only one able to listen and relate to what I have to say, and I really need that now. I know that sounds really selfish of me, and I know that, but you’ve helped me more than anyone else I know and I have no idea how I can repay you for that. So if you’re still reading this and I really hope that you are I’d like you to know that there’s a lot more to me than meets the eye and at this point, knowing how smart you are I know you understand that and u hope that this only brings us closer because I can’t afford to lose a friend as close as you ever in my life and especially not over something as stupid and petty as me liking you.
There’s a lot about my life that I wish to tell both you and any other potential recipient of this letter but I don’t know where to start. After taking to Sara on the phone for a little over an hour I realized that I’m just going to go for it and if it fails somehow then fuck it. I’m not going to sit here wishing something happened between us when I can do something about it. So expect a surprise coming soon when you get off from work sometime this week.
Another thing I realized on the phone was that I really want someone to call my girlfriend and I can only hope to god it ends up you. I have no idea how you feel about me but I assume that I have a chance and I’m going to take that risk. I always end up being the really close friend but it never amounts to anything more than that and I have no clue why.
I’m really glad I started to write this letter to no one because it taught me a lot about myself and who I am. At heart I’m venerable as hell and nothing can change that. This has become a means for me to vent but it allows me to look back at what I wrote and when and helps me to better understand who I am which seems odd but it’s something I didn’t know before. And on that note I’ve decided that I’m going to send this letter to a random person somewhere in the country and all I ask is to respond back to me in some form with what you think about what I’m going through.
Its times like these that I have no fucking clue how to respond to you because I feel like I’ve just been stabbed in the fucking chest and it sucks. You were the one person that made me believe that this entire thing was going to be different and I was beginning to change from being fucking depressed all the time to actually caring about what happens to others. What did you expect me to think after all this time spent together? Did you not think we were going on dates or are you just retarded and don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. You kept on saying that things change and this would be different this time but I guess that was just to make me feel better. I hate this. Mow I’m just tatting the whole depressed cycle over again and I don’t want to do that. At this point I don’t even know if I want to bother hanging out with you anymore knowing that it won’t amount to anything down the road.
A month into school and I now find that I’ve really changed as a person and I think a great deal of it has to do with this letter. At this point in time I realize that I really didn’t like Anna or anyone else that I previously mentioned; I just liked the idea of being liked which is much different. The reason which I’m starting to write in this again is because I just received the letter informing me of the date of which my hearing for the drinking incident in my dorm is. To be honest I’m scared of what’s going to happen but I know that in the end this won’t be a big deal and I’ll forget all about it. I just don’t want one stupid mistake to change the future, and especially my future at Northeastern.
There are a lot of things at school that I learned about myself that I wouldn’t have otherwise.
I suddenly find the urge to continue on my rants about seemingly nothing, and thus continue writing in this very word document. I can’t help to reflect on what this letter or whatever you shall call it to be has changed over the course of me writing it. At this point in my life I now find myself rather content where I am but not completely happy with it either. There are the nights which I feel the urge to go and meet a girl somewhere and start an intimate relationship with her, the nights where I just want to go out and party (mostly coinciding with the same desire to meet hot girls), the nights where all I want is to get those drunk texts from Emma telling me that I’m the best and that she loves me, and lastly the nights where watching a movie is a perfectly acceptable means to spend my weekend nights.
I can’t help but compare the title of Freud’s writing “society and its discontents” to my own life and in this I think I may have to tile this something to the extent of Adam and his discontents. Though the cliché title which I stole from Freud doesn’t exactly roll of the tongue, I think it accurately describes what this letter means to me. It serves its purpose of writing my thoughts down onto paper, and allows me to write down anything I want to say without feeling like I’m being judged or having to worry about what people will think about me.
I recently found out that Jon has some feelings for Meg and that he tried to act upon them and hook up with her when he was pretty drunk. I don’t know why this bothers me so much because as I’m told myself many a times before I definitely don’t have any feelings towards meg and I don’t really care about what Jon does in his love life, but I guess that I was always under the impression that meg had feelings for me and when I think about her moving on I get upset and can’t help but try and change that.
After spending a lot of time with Meg recently, I found that I really don’t have feelings for her in the way that people always assume but I rather just like to be a flirt. I know this sounds very teenage girl of me to say but I just like the idea that I can make someone laugh or smile and make them feel better, which in turn makes me feel better. Though this is kind of selfish and has gotten me in trouble in the past (mainly with Renee and Sam, but I can go into detail about that later), I still try and do it. Hopefully Meg doesn’t get the wrong impression and think I really like her and I don’t want things to get all awkward between us like they have in the past with females in similar situations, part of me wants her to have feelings for me. I honestly don’t know why I want that, I think it’s partly due to the fact that small things like that make me feel better about myself and my current situation with girls, which is again very selfish.
“Let me be clear. I understand very little, least about those close to me”
There’s a big part of me that has no idea what exactly I want to write about this evening. After watching a show where a man has to start writing a book I got the urge to continue writing this letter or whatever it actually is defined as. I feel really bad that I had to lie to my friends but I actually made a huge mistake. I blew our soccer season because I never bothered to look up the game schedule again and I feel really bad about it.