I don't know if introversion is something natural that simply exists in some individuals or if it is a consequence of a troubled life in childhood, but the fact is that I am introverted and it makes things harder.
I wasn't a talkative child, nor a talkative teenager and not a talkative adult right now. Actually I tried to force myself into being more extroverted. This place feels like hell to me. Everyone seem to be extroverted (or at least they fake it very well), everyone is supposed to have plenty of friends, go to many parties, kiss as much different people as they can, to show the world how rebel they are, how free they seem to be or whatever. On the other hand, I call this a prision. Believe me, I tried to do this, to be like this and I felt terrible. That's empty.
I know I have lost many opportunities due to my introversion. I simply gave up fighting for people I got interested. It even troubles me in job issues, many people come to me and say that I am very talented but I am just too much closed and introverted to go there and show my work. What's wrong with me? I really wanted to know.
Living in a country like mine is very frustrating. I was not tanned enough, I was not talkative, I was not extroverted, I was not "cool" - on the other hand, I heard many people come to advise me like:
- You are too much strong and it scares people!
- You must relax and must trust people a little more
- It's very boring to see how many politics/economy news you tend to post - we don't want to discuss politics or economy, we just want to have fun!
Wow, you know, that's tiring.
I remember the last time I travelled to the beach. I just wanted to stay in peace, to see the sea, walk in the sand, breath the marine breeze. But nobody left me in peace, nor the acquaintances or the strangers, why the hell people just don't let you in peace alone? On the other hand, the times I needed to talk or cry, nobody showed up!! That's it.
Another thing that gets me angry here: nobody respects time, there's no such thing called punctuality here. And the blasted socialists... DAMN! They want to tell us all how we should think, act and desire!!
Sometimes it seems that my introversion is some kind of self-defense mechanism developed due to the hostile environment I was born. Well, anyway I think I'm not gonna be able to change it in this current life, so I better appreciate it.
Sunday, 1 June 2014
I don´t know how to begin
But I need to. It's urgent.
The beggining of my history lies on my birthday, sometime in the past. Everything was a huge mistake, and I was the harvest of that mistake. Lucky me, huh? I had no idea what was expecting me in this world.
I was supposed to be a happy child like everyone else in my age was, but I couldn't. All the other children were able to be happy, soft, smiling, delicate, but I didn't. I grew up feeling I was guilty, for something I never done to anyone.
Back then, my mother got pregnant when she was 17 and my so called father asked my mother to abort me as soon as he knew. But I had no idea about all that.
I was born in March 7th, my mother wasn't able to abort me. She took care of me about 7 to 8 months, time enough to recover her body's shape and become a hot teenager again, so she abandonned me on my grandmother's hand. Then the hell begun.
English is not my native language, but who cares? People here say that this place is the best in the world, but I completely disagree. They say that people here do care, but I don't think so. I always felt alone, I always felt I wasn't in my right place. That's why I'm not writing these things in my language, because here it seems to be a terrible sin for someone to feel sad and alone, but every time I tried to expose my sadness, I was simply left alone, perishing while everyone were just worried to continue being happy, no matter what happens. This is the rule here, and I do not fit it.
And who am I? For now, call me Mrs. N. That will be enough. I want to be heard (or read) by my thoughts and feelings, not for my appearance. Nice to meet you.
The beggining of my history lies on my birthday, sometime in the past. Everything was a huge mistake, and I was the harvest of that mistake. Lucky me, huh? I had no idea what was expecting me in this world.
I was supposed to be a happy child like everyone else in my age was, but I couldn't. All the other children were able to be happy, soft, smiling, delicate, but I didn't. I grew up feeling I was guilty, for something I never done to anyone.
Back then, my mother got pregnant when she was 17 and my so called father asked my mother to abort me as soon as he knew. But I had no idea about all that.
I was born in March 7th, my mother wasn't able to abort me. She took care of me about 7 to 8 months, time enough to recover her body's shape and become a hot teenager again, so she abandonned me on my grandmother's hand. Then the hell begun.
English is not my native language, but who cares? People here say that this place is the best in the world, but I completely disagree. They say that people here do care, but I don't think so. I always felt alone, I always felt I wasn't in my right place. That's why I'm not writing these things in my language, because here it seems to be a terrible sin for someone to feel sad and alone, but every time I tried to expose my sadness, I was simply left alone, perishing while everyone were just worried to continue being happy, no matter what happens. This is the rule here, and I do not fit it.
And who am I? For now, call me Mrs. N. That will be enough. I want to be heard (or read) by my thoughts and feelings, not for my appearance. Nice to meet you.
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