Feeling Disconnected

In the quiet of the night, around 3 a.m., thoughts often hit me hard. It’s like my mind comes alive when the world is asleep. Tonight, I found myself thinking about how I never seem to be anyone’s first choice. I’ve had good friends throughout my life, but there’s always this feeling that none of them are really there for me all the time. Each friend sees a different part of me, but no one sees all of me.

I think about how each friend brings out a different side of me. There’s no one person who is always there, seeing me through all my ups and downs. It’s like I have to split myself into pieces, showing only what each friend can handle or what they need from me. It makes me feel lonely sometimes, even when I’m surrounded by people. I can’t help but wonder if anyone will ever know the whole me.

Maybe it all stemmed from my childhood, where love sometimes felt scarce. Or maybe it was because I had this habit of dreaming big and expecting more from life and people than maybe I should have. Someone once asked me why I go out of my way to help others so much. He wonder if I’m just trying to please people. But if I don’t do it, who will? I feel like it’s my job because no one else would do it for them. Yet, even though I do so much, I rarely feel like it’s reciprocated.

As I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, I thought about my life. Is this what life means for me? Always giving and not getting much in return? It’s a tough lesson to learn, but maybe it’s important. Maybe life isn’t about what others give back to me, but about what I give to them.

This generally relates to my friendships. Friendships are a big part of my life, but lately, I’ve been feeling uncomfortable. I feel like I have to explain my feelings every day, and it’s starting to weigh on me. It’s like I’m never enough for anyone, and maybe I’m just overreacting, but the discomfort is hard to ignore.

Mel once told me that I needed to be good on my own, a statement that resonated deeply with me. It made me realise that I have always been on my own, but the difference now is whether I’m okay with it or not. This self-reflection brought me back to something Qila said that I believe is the biggest reason for my problem: I’m afraid to express my feelings. This fear has had a profound impact on my friendships. I’ve come to see that by not being expressive, I don’t fit well into most of my friendships.

I tend to hide my feelings because, deep down, I don’t want people to see this side of me. I worry that my sensitivity might annoy others, so I keep my true emotions to myself. But this habit of hiding my feelings has consequences. By not being expressive, I’ve lost the spark in my friendships. I’ve become someone who doesn’t show their true self, and I fear this makes me seem boring.

There’s a constant tug-of-war between wanting to be authentic and fearing the potential consequences of vulnerability. I often find myself grappling with questions like, “Will they still like me if they see this side of me?” or “What if they think I’m too emotional or needy?”

Not being open about my feelings has led to shallow connections. My friends don’t get to see the real me, the person who cares deeply and feels intensely. Instead, they see a version of me that is always trying to keep things light and easy, never letting them in on my deeper thoughts and emotions. This has made me feel isolated, even when I’m surrounded by people.

I remember times when I desperately wanted to share how I truly felt but held back out of fear. Fear of judgement, fear of being misunderstood, and fear of rejection. But each time I withheld my emotions, I felt a piece of myself drifting further away from my friends. It’s a lonely feeling to know that I’m not fully known by the people who matter to me the most.

The struggle to be expressive is a constant battle within me. On one hand, I crave deep connections and understanding. On the other hand, the fear of being vulnerable holds me back. It’s like standing on the edge of a cliff, knowing that taking the leap could lead to something beautiful, but being paralysed by the fear of falling.

Each day, I put on a mask, hiding my true emotions behind a facade of calm and composure. I smile and laugh, engaging in conversations, but inside, I’m often yearning to share more, to let my friends see the real me. Yet, the fear of their reactions keeps me silent. Will they still like me if they see how sensitive I am? Will they understand my insecurities, or will they see me as weak and overly emotional?

I’ve built up walls over the years, and tearing them down feels almost impossible at times. The walls provide a sense of safety and a barrier against potential hurt and rejection. But they also keep me trapped in a cycle of loneliness and misunderstanding. The very thing I use to protect myself is what isolates me the most.

I think about the few times I’ve managed to open up and let a friend see a glimpse of my true self. Those moments were terrifying yet incredibly freeing. The connections felt deeper and more genuine. But they were rare, and each time, I had to muster immense courage to be vulnerable. It’s exhausting to constantly battle with my own fears and push against the instinct to hide.

Despite this realisation, it’s still a struggle for me to be open about my emotions. I’ve built up walls over the years, and tearing them down is a slow and painful process. But I know it’s necessary. I need to show my friends the real me, the one who feels deeply and cares passionately. I need to let them see my sensitivity and understand that it’s a part of who I am.