Hidden

Hidden …
I am living in a.bubble. An invisible force field around me protecting me from outside eyes.
To the world I am me. The best version of what that looks like.
The one that is so familiar to everyone and that sees me through this life in a way where I’m not required to explain or answer questions, or be judged by others.
For a beautiful while the inside and outside matched. I was more me than I had ever felt and it was incredible.
I never felt so magic.
Other than my blog (which a couple of my besties read) and my former housemate and a friend I told (in a much more palatable version of the truth) before they went away, noone else knows. It is hidden. Not even my mum is aware.
Maybe by hiding it I can continue to be who I am in the outside world without questions, but eventually people will know.
I can hear myself chatting in my normal friendly and caring way, laughing at things that would normally make me laugh, and creating happiness around me like I would naturally do.
It’s like an outer body experience that is helping me to cope with where I’m sitting. I don’t even know how to deal with it other than to exist and function. The show must go on as Freddie once said and I am performing to the crowd.

I cancelled both of the meets I had on Monday and Tuesday. I just don’t have the energy to be around anyone if it isn’t a requirement.
Preferring to take all the time I have to be by myself. To be alone and not have to be anything. To be allowed to just feel sad and weary and empty. I neither want people to be around that or to witness it.
As a person who loves people I feel like I wish to be a hermit who can retreat into herself unless it is a necessity. Part of life where I have to earn money or be a mum or be what is required of me when I am rejoined at home on Friday. I call it home but it doesn’t feel like it. It feels like a place that I am locking myself in to.
From giving the normal me at work to being the opposite of who I am at home. Conserving my energy for what I need to be but am finding so difficult to do.
Going through the motions of life and not being able to see beyond the walls that surround me.
I made this choice. I know my reasons. They are valid. This isn’t about love or being good and right. This is about surviving in the situation I find myself in, on a very real bread and butter level. Trying to be better than the selfish person screaming out inside, and knowing that to make a different choice would see myself rejected by my girl who cried out for my help and who sees me as the strength against the sadness of her dad. My own dad ringing in my ears in all his selfishness in taking everything and wandering off into a happier place. I could never be happy there. In letting down my girl or a man I care about who deserves my help.
What kind of person am I? To even be questioning my responsibilities. Who have I become? I don’t even know who This girl is.
This once most dutiful girl who would not even blink to do anything for anyone is feeling sad in living a life with someone who loves her.
Who really loves her but just needs help to get back on their feet.
What the hell is wrong with me.
All around me are things I need to sort out. To make it lovely for when they return.
And yet I’m so tired. Tired of fighting. I was happy just being. Doing simple stuff like spending time with my girl, walking the dog or seeing friends for simple nights. I didn’t need anything spectacular. I just felt free to be as I was.
I felt the hope of possibilities.
I could dream of more.
Now I’ve lost hope of anything more than a life of being what others want me to be.
To give everyone the show that makes them happy but is leaving me feeling so empty.
The friend I had that filled my world with magic, erased as though they never existed. Easier to live this life without them being a part of it.
I wouldn’t want them to see this girl.
I keep asking myself how I got here. I made my bed and now I have to lie in it? I instigated what led me here. Leaving that feeling of being alone with someone for so long until I found myself in a place where I saw more and felt more and I could no longer live that lie.
But pushed and pulled in so many directions that left me feeling exhausted and like I had been a selfish and horrible person.
Where’s my good girl gone?

But I wasn’t a hortible person. I was still the same kind girl I had always been only full of dreams and magic and fun and happy. Somehow I need to find something more. I’m fighting to try and be more. Be what is required but without losing myself or my dreams.
I don’t know how to do it. So I hide. Hide in myself and let it all happen around me and perform in the show. Waiting for the curtains to close when I can dance freely in all my excitement and happiness and magic.
I know you will worry L. Don’t! I will find my way. Eventually. I just can’t talk about it. This is my only place to say how I feel without it being questioned or judged.
The truly happy and dreamy girl who is buried beneath everyone else’s needs will keep breathing.
The tiny bit of hope of being more being held so tightly like a lucky penny.
Hoping that eventually it will appear.

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