Phobia

Did you know I'm afraid of being alone? I'm terrified of being all by myself, my friends and family having left me behind because they realize exactly how I am. I'm a huge contradiction. I'm really not sure how to explain it except there is an inner me, a dry shriveled and hateful beast. And an outer me, a thick layered happy person, a wall of smiles and jokes and laughter to keep people for knowing the inner nasty me. I've gotten so good at covering up the inner me that I sometimes forget she's there, waiting for just the right nudge to come tumbling out.

She's there, waiting for me to snap and yell, fight, even hit. I can't contain her because I keep feeding her. All my hate and sorrow, all my burning desires and painful memories. She's why I forget words, words have meanings and those meanings lead to other words, words I'd rather forget. So I do. But because of this I wander around and in mid conversation I have to stop for a moment or two just to figure out the word I wanted was 'House' or 'Cloud' or something so trivial it's funny. It's a great joke to others and I use it as such so I don't have to explain that 'House' reminds me of my old home, sitting on the stairs at the age of 8 while my parents scream at each other not but ten feet away. Or that 'Cloud' reminds me of how I used to be, young and always happy.

That does seem to be the time that the inner me and outer me where created. We had just moved to North Carolina from Wisconsin for my mother's work. I don't remember a happy time in that house during those first couple of years but I'm sure we laughed and played some time. It seems like ever sense then my life has just been one train wreck after another. My parents divorce was the biggest thing, they where both so nasty to each other and I was torn between wanting them both and wanting to run away. I never wanted to live with any of my immediate family. It would just continue. I drew plans to go to the other coast, to go back to Wisconsin. Nothing ever came of it. I'm a coward even though most see me as strong. The inner me is a coward while the outer me is a hero. I hate the outer me but if I was to be the inner me then no one would love me anymore. Or worse yet they would pity me. God. I don't want pity. I want strong arms to hold me. I want small ones to hold and I want everyone to keep loving me as long as I can be outer me and not leave me all alone when that facade breaks.

Recent is to varying a word. It could mean from five moments ago to two years prior. so I won't say that I recently turned eighteen, I'll say that I turned eighteen on February 9th. It was almost four months ago that I moved out of my father and step mother's house and into the house of a family who has been my own for at least eight years. It's only by the grace of them that I'm not on the street. That sounds morbid but just like the word 'recent' you cant judge it by first appearance or your own perspective on it's meaning. I'd like to think that I'm not a complex person, not someone you have to sit down for hours with just to figure out which way their wind blows, but I will say that I contain a vast amount of stupid, pig headed pride. My father and step-mother could barely support themselves when I left, my sister and brothers are either in college, just out of college or in the Marine corps. I could no more put a strain on them then I had to.

In my panic to get out of the house I did something terrible. I ran to others that could support me, begged for help which they gave freely. I took advantage of their being well off so my first family wouldn't have to pay for me anymore. I used them.

I have to admit that using people doesn't bother me that much. I use and manipulate people all the time to get what I want. Generally speaking it's nothing harmless, a free fountain drink, a ride home, nothing to expensive or awful. But I feel a deep regret when I stop to think about what I've done. It drives me to clean as much as I can while I look for a job, throw all my clothes in together to lessen the number of loads instead of sorting them out (something my bra's will never forgive me for). Anything I can to save a penny off of what they're already paying for me.

I new from the moment I put my bags down that I couldn't just leave. I can't leave until I can take care of myself in the vary least financially. The family I live with loves me as much as I love them and I couldn't just up and go someday like a cat that ran away, I'd like to think our connection is much deeper then that. I'd like to think that they would be sad and worried and even angry if I disappeared, they would probably call the police and form search parties. Though I'm not sure how much that's pushing what they would really do I can't cause them the grief by doing that. They took me in and helped me, if I just waste that then I'm throw that in their faces. So it's pride that brought me here, and it's pride that keeps me.

I have no job prospects, I have no hope of getting one in the current climate, my father has a master's degree and can't find one, So I'll continue to clean for them (and god do they need it)until I find something.

I think pride will be the death of me.