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Today, October 4th, is Day 4 of Blogtober. I decided to write about being a wall flower. I have decided not to have a theme or go with anyone else’ theme or list of topics this year because it’s hard enough to write as it is, let alone when given a vague prompt that you either dislike or know nothing about.

I consider myself to be a wall flower and I guess I have been one for quite some time. I was never popular or well liked in school, I didn’t follow fashion trends or do the things that other kids did. As a young kid, I was loud among my few friends, but quiet and studious in school. I held my head two inches away from my paper, which caused me to be teased. Then the teacher called home to my parents to get my eyes checked and it turns out that I had astigmatism in my good eye (yes good eye) and was more than legally blind in my right eye. The layman term is a lazy eye. But not everyone is always legally blind if they do have a lazy eye. I was forced to wear an eye patch over my good eye to train the bad eye to see. Eye sight can improve up to the age of 12 before the changes are locked in and remain permanent or regress. This caused more bullying at school because who wears a pink eye patch with a lady bug on it? I did.

Once middle and high school hit, I stopped playing sports. I wasn’t in any after school activities and mostly kept to myself. In high school, I joined the debate team with my sister and somehow managed to get a date to every school dance and even went to prom two years in a row. I think I was well known, but not well liked. I tell things like it is, was decent in school, and didn’t have a conventional path after I left high school.

Where most kids went to university right out of school, I went to community college because I was sick most of my senior year. I nearly flunked out so I had to redo some high school courses in college. I remember thinking it was the end of the world that I had to take math 087 and English 099 which are considered “less than” courses and would not count for credit. When I joined the shipyard after a year and a half of school, I was lost. Most of my peers were with their associates’ degrees or even their bachelor’s when I was working 60 hour weeks. A lot changed when I broke my foot. I fell into a gambling addiction, I was on and off pain pills and going to doctors appointments for three years straight.

I remember in high school having a tight knit group of friends who were church goers and that all faded when I started dating a non Christian guy and lost my virginity. It’s weird because all the people I used to talk to in school and through church don’t know the real me now. It’s hard for me to make friends because I am painfully shy, yet bubbly and outgoing at the same time. When it comes to me wanting to be friends with someone, I am afraid of rejection. I have already lost so many friends in my life so sometimes it feels easier to be alone than it is to be with someone.

The only person I talk to on a consistent basis is Diego and no one else. Everyone is either too busy or doesn’t like me or what I believe. A lot of that is based on judgements or assumptions made through rumors and gossip, but it still sucks either way. Part of me wishes I went away to university because I could be me there and people could become friends with me based on the real me and not others’ assumption of me. But then again, I could see myself getting lost in the partying ways and flunking out of school real fuckin’ fast.

I just feel alone and I watch people talk, laugh, and have fun and I feel left out. I try to insert myself into conversations at work, but it’s not really my place to do that. They aren’t my friends, nor do they want to be. I see how they treat each other and it is self interested. I guess everybody is; interested in their own well being before anyone else. I get frustrated because I am not like that. So I guess I shouldn’t be friends with those types of people anyway. But what’s worse, no friends or fake friends? I guess in my opinion, fake friends are worse.

I feel like no one really understands me. I think that is where my biggest frustration in life comes from. I am not close enough to anyone for anybody to truly “get” me. Part of me likes to keep the intrigue up and my guard up, but to be vulnerable and let just a few people in sounds nice. It also sounds like I could get hurt but it’s either get hurt or be alone forever. I can’t not have friends or people to talk to, I just can’t. I’ll go crazy! Well, more crazy.

I am gonna leave this here because the more I type, the more into my feelings I will get. I did good today. I got done with all my homework and will get to go to Diego’s tomorrow and maybe then I will feel less lonely and alone. Plus I will see my Poncho boi and he is the goodest doggo that ever could be.

Much love,


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