The Mess That I Am

I often find myself in moods such as the one I am in right now. Moods that only allow me to see my current state of hurt; moods that only allow me to think about now. However, I have found that these moods allow me to process through my hurt in ways that my everyday "happy" mood does not. It is in these times of utter sadness that I sit and think to myself: "Am I happy?" and if the answer to this is no, I begin to think of all the reasons I am not. This usually leads to mass amounts of crying. The kind of crying that starts out small, with only a tear or two running down your cheek, and ends up being a sob while you sit on the couch surrounded by a million used kleenex.

Am I the only one that this happens to?

I find myself wondering if I even know who I am. If I am completely honest with myself, the men I date usually define who I am. I give them everything I have in order to gain their love and respect, when really they should love and respect the person that I am. That would seem simple...if I knew who I was. I am only 22 years old, and yet I have had more than enough experiences to allow me to figure out who I am. Somehow, every day, it gets harder and harder to get through the swamp that is my life. Somehow, every day, I make it. And I make it because I never sit down and analyze myself. I have no idea who I am. I wander through life showing people glimpses of myself because, let's be honest, I have no idea who I am. I'm only able to show glimpses because, in the midst of an experience with another person, I think of something to say and that glimpse, that sentence, portrays who I am at that given moment.

Who I am changes. Every day.

If anyone else out there even remotely gets what I am saying, please follow my blog and/or message me. I would love to figure out life together.