I Hate Myself.

Not to be dramatic or anything.

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I thought it would be funny to recall one of my earliest posts; the title on this would indicate that things progressed quite roughly. It's not that funny, but I laughed.

Anyway, long time no see. This post will properly explain why, so I guess in a sense the title isn't a total lie.

I took a questionnaire tonight that was supposed to be introspective and help navigate whether you know yourself and are doing all you can to be your best self. It was about 30 questions in total ranging from facts about you to hobbies/routines, to what an ideal life would look like for you.

For the first time in 285 years, I forced myself to be completely honest and specific by requiring that I say the answers out loud. I did not like the answers at all, I actually laughed at how horrible they were.

I learned two major things:

1. I've never prioritized my well-being.

2. (And sadder) For too long, I haven't allowed room to be myself at all.

I'm not a child—I hope that much has been established—so it truly baffles me that some of the simplest things about myself I couldn't answer. I didn't know what I like doing. Honestly, all I could come up with were things I enjoyed in the past that I don't do anymore and miss immensely. I couldn't answer for when I'm the happiest; I struggled with pointing out what makes me happy.

I had the big things down; i.e. family and kindred spirits, but it's the lack of the little things that truly bothered me. One of my biggest blessings until about four years ago was my constant fictional story writing. I enjoyed writing so much sometimes I'd feel like I didn't need to read someone else's book or watch another movie. No external creative stimulation was needed whatsoever—and trust me, I love a good book.

Fast forward. Recall that I said this was my normal until approximately four years ago. It's also not the only source of happiness that's been halted along the way.

It also took me forever to figure out what I liked about myself... I don't want to continue, I think you get the gist of it.

Here's the thing, I had an answer for some of the general themes of the questionnaire, i.e. what I want, what makes me upset, what I could do to try to change things, etc., but I came to a rather dissatisfying conclusion. I really don't care about myself or my well-being enough to have considered those things in the past. I started reflecting and I realized that I always automatically put myself last.

Again, not to be dramatic. I'm aware most people truly don't allow themselves to flourish in the way their minds desire. This world is tough and a lot of our successes seem to ride heavily on how we present ourselves to others and what our perception of their perception is, so we morph 200 times a day.

We're all too much in our own heads—literally, in the physical sense—so there isn't really an alternate option.

It's just sad that I don't value my own happiness and comfort enough to allow myself to be. Sometimes, even in my own "space", I'm on auto-pilot in an often freakish way. Whatever works for everybody else will get me by. Never complain, just be as interesting or, in some cases, as disinterested as possible and whatever happens, happens. Disappointing honestly, because it hasn't given me much room to learn who I am, and more importantly what that looks like outside of myself.

With this blog for example; it takes so much longer than it needs to in creating a post because I spend half the time trying to craft what everyone wants that I get lost in the nonsense and forget I'm actually the boss. As it turns out, I've never been happy with a single post I've put on here. Not a single one.

This brings us to our section of excuses. *Jazz Hands*

The inception of this blog was pretty interesting. It was a suggestion from a friend, but it was one I'd actually given much consideration to in the past. Actually, one of my imagined alternate universes has me running a 10+-year-old blog full of amazingness. I've had my pick of which friends and family made it into that world and everything.

In real life when the idea of blogging was suggested to me, I was very hesitant. I kind of figured this would happen, but I later thought, if no one else did, I'd read it, right? It's writing, it should be...fun?

If it was possible in a lot of my imaginary worlds, it could work in real life. But real life worked greatly against me.

I'll be completely honest with you and say that I've found it hard to maintain this blog because I often doubt that anyone would really really enjoy what I have to say—enough doubt to be hypercritical and indecisive. I have a thousand post ideas a day, but I scrap 99% of them by the end of the thought. I've drafted a million posts and changed my tone so much that I didn't care to continue the struggle and finish the post. It's hard to present yourself when you're not being yourself.

For the time being, I'll have to grapple with a few things.

I'm young.

I have a lot to figure out, and being confused about who you are is normal and expected. I however find it lackluster. I'd just like to be better than that. I want to have a strong sense of my being; so strong that there's no room I can't steer my own boat in.

I can be a people pleaser.

I'm not interested in this trait at all. It seems I'm so against it that I've involuntarily created a whole new persona whereby the past can meet the present and wonder what went wrong. If I have to hear one more story about my warm smile and shining personality from my childhood again I'll actually disappear. Let it go. It'll come back when the right things are in place.

I tend to live in my head.

This one though, I'm not sure I'm fully bothered by. It makes for good entertainment, however, it's weird but could be an introverted trait. I'll be in a room with all the stimulation one could ask for and I'll just remain still. So still. In my head though, the experience is in overdrive, but I just can never get myself to step out. That might be why I enjoy writing so much—something's finally moving somewhere.

Funny, I truly believe that there's not a soul in this world I fear. I also believe that I'm confident—I mean, those two things often go hand in hand. It's the triality of that and everything else I explained in the last three or so paragraphs that's funny.

There you go. That's why I've been gone. It's because the complete absence of my actual thoughts and mindset on this blog has been exhausting to push through.

I'm going to do better. It will be chaotic, but I'll figure it out along the way.

This post is so long. I'm only partially apologetic.