please don't leave me

And with that said in my title, I would totally leave me if I were you.


If you're still reading, I'll now provide you with an extension to my plea:

I haven't been blogging much lately...for a million different reasons. Since my last post, I've been totally out of my mind busy...with school work, internships, personal crises, eating, sleeping, facebooking. The usual. While I'm the first person to poo-poo excuses, I'll give them anyway. Because that seems to be all I have right now...energy to excuse and plea.

Naturally, my continued desire to be a part of the world (even the virtual world of blogging) while feeling completely dilapidated got me thinking...is this struggle the sign of health?

I've been having a hard time separating myself from people, events, my worries, my spiraling thoughts these days. An expert on my life would claim that I've always had a hard time doing that...I was born what a lay person might term "overly sensitive." As a child, I vividly remember throwing myself into tizzies when bad or stressful things happen to me. I don't think was necessarily the culprit...it's not that I was throwing a tantrum because I didn't get my way (see, I was pretty much the perfect child). But when anything happened to those around me, especially those dear to me, I'd react like it happened to me. While I know this can be called "empathy" and am convinced the trait led me to this profession, I'm growing weary of being this way. It's like I'm absorbing everyone's pain and making it my own. And it paralyzes and confuses me. I don't know which way is up...I don't really know what I (me...ME) actually feel. So all of that advice that I gave you before about identifying your true feelings? Down the drain.

When I'm in these binds, it's like I coil inward. The further in I go, the less I'm able to make sense to anyone else or myself. The less I'm able to fish out what pain is mine and what is others. I think this is why I haven't been blogging...if I can't make any sense of things, who wants to listen to me? Wouldn't it be easier to just bear my discomfort, my questions, alone?
This seems to be the plight of the severely mentally ill, the schizophrenics, and often the homeless folk. Their path and their illness (whichever came first) has driven them to isolation...where they can't stand to be with people and vice versa. It scares me to think I might have the capacity to draw so far within myself that I could cease to be much to anyone.

Before you write this entry off as a downer, remember this (and I'm saying this to myself more than anyone)...The pain is not all mine. I need to hand it back to whom it belongs. And I don't have to bear it alone. In fact, at times, I might need to look so much further outward than I imagine.....like to a therapist (PLUG!).

Re-reading this, I'm not sure I've made sense to the reader. You can blame it on my harried state of mind. No, on second thought, just blame it on me...no excuses...I think I'm just like it. But I published myself anyway. For you...the reader. So you don't leave me.