Who really cares?

So this morning I was reading some interesting blogs under the depression or bipolar theme

Musings and other Ramblings of a Crazy Beautiful Mind

Bipolar II: Newly Diagnosed

Fighting the Darkness, My Secret Battle With Depression

Fighting For My Life: Filling People In

Anxiety and Depression, Our Side Of The Story

To name but a few.  These are people who seem to be going through some of what I go through.  Not all of them are positive writers, nor are they all negative.  They say it like it is.  Just like I think I am doing, like I try to do.

Somehow they come off as much more interesting than I am.  I guess I am still in that dark place where such things matter to me, when they really shouldn't.  They all definitely have more followers than I do (Thank you Felicia).  Sure I did manage to get over 1000 views in 3 months (Thanks largely to my family and people from Russia.  HELLO RUSSIA!) but no one comments.  It's like no one cares.  People comment on those other blogs, either to congratulate or show support, but I don't deserve any of that.

Why is my life of no consequence?

Why am I boring?  Why can I not help myself?

My mom would love it if I got published one day.  But you only get published for being interesting.  Sure I have a lot to say.  But it's not about having things to say, it's about others wanting and willing to listen to you.  It's about belonging in the crowd, the universe.

I should write only for the joy of writing, only for the need to share.  I should really not care if anyone wants to hear what I have to say.

I have travelled quite the distance in how important (or non-important) I am in the last few years.  While driving to work I was just thinking about how Lindsay Lohan's song Rumour described how I felt in 2005-2006.

But I can tell that you're watching me

And you're probably gonna write what you didn't see

Well, I just need a little space to breathe

Can you please respect my privacy

Why can't you just let me do

The things I wanna do

I just wanna be me

I don't understand

Why would you wanna bring me down

I'm only having fun

I'm gonna live my life (but not the way you want me to)

I'm tired of rumors starting

I'm sick of being followed

I'm tired of people lying

Saying what they want about me

Why can't they back up off me

Why can't they let me live

I'm gonna do it my way

Take this for just what it is

It probably never really was that bad, but there were a lot of rumours about who I was or wasn't doing at the time.  That workplace was worst than a high school! (Felicia may remember as that is where I met her) Now, I strongly doubt anyone has anything to say about me, good or bad.

In 2008-2009 people were saying nice things about me, like that I would go far.  I was desired on a professional level, the rumours were good.  People thought I was smart and wanted to be part of my surrounding, making something of themselves by association.

Then I quit smoking, had a panic attack.  Things started to spiral downwards.  I went on sick leave for a month to try and get better.  It didn't work came back and became the one that could do nothing right.  Tried changing environments, but still continued to get worst.

Now I am just boring.  Just something to avoid like the plague.

I watch as others have taken the place I once had.

It sucks.

I want my life back

I want to be interesting again but fear it will never happen.  I am doomed.  I no longer belong, anywhere.

Thanks for reading, (the few of you who do)