Split

I really do believe, perhaps in naivete or in truth, that my greatest fear has nothing to do with death, nothing to do with loss, nothing to do with being trapped or tortured or afraid.
My biggest fear is that I could lie to myself enough to create another me, enough to become someone I can't recognize.

Not all who wander are lost, but all who have lost the ability to wonder...they might never be found.
Every day, I question myself, and I question everything around me. I'm never satisfied with what things appear to be-there's always depth to every surface appearance, especially when it comes to people who seem one dimensional. Discounting someone is the best way to hurt yourself, to hurt your chance at friendship, or love, or something wonderful.

And this is who I am, these are my greatest beliefs.
And my biggest fear is that I could somehow convince myself that I am none of these things. That any momentary lack of self confidence I might feel would become permanent, that I would morph into someone I can't understand.
But I am sure that that won't happen.

I have a friend who...he did this, to himself. His inner self, the one he rarely reveals, even to me..is wonderful. That version of J is sweet, passionate, funny, and above all, genuine. That version isn't cool, not in the least, but that version also doesn't care whatsoever.
But the other version..is what he shows to the world. A mask, a shield, a wall I could see right through, and most people never bother to examine. If you hand people a version of yourself...they will usually accept it, run with it, neglect to bother with any other part of you. I hate this version of him. Everything about me rails against every part of J's version B. He is harsh, cynical, scathing, a hotshot. I can't stand it, though I tolerate it when it must come out.
We all have a shield. We all have a front. We all deal with the overwhelm that is the world by creating an alternate self, a self that has no insides or guts, a self that is social and exciting and someone easy to love.
But...what happens when that piece becomes the whole? Is there any stepping back? Is there a chance of being who you were, or who you should be, or who you can be? Or do we become so entrenched in our preferable outer selves that returning to introspection is...impossible?

The idea really scares me. I force myself to see the dichotomy I have created for myself every day. I am one piece bubbly, fun-loving, endlessly outgoing, and loud. I am, in the other piece, quiet, extremely introspective, wise, and without drama or excitement. I can tell you that most days, I prefer the quieter side to myself. She is easier to live with. Much less maintenance. She can have mussed hair, wear sweatpants, and drink pots of tea on a rainy day. She is the one who keeps this blog. The frantic-seeker does not have the patience to write, think, breathe. She is too busy finding her next latte.
I waver between my two halves constantly, of course. I would venture to say that my "true self" is neither one nor the other, but whatever combination I choose to make. But that is only because I KNOW that there are two sides to me, know that I am always a little different, know my limits. Those who are lost don't see a split and they don't see the fusion. They don't know who they are, or how to get to their own core.
And I used to be that way.
And I never, ever want to go back.
I am vigilant, and I am determined. I know who I am. I know what I want and I know that I don't know much of anything. I know how much I rely on the people I love to keep me upright, and I know that I NEED no one but myself to be ok.

I'll keep loving caffeine, to keep me upbeat. I'll keep loving my journal, to keep me grounded. And I'll keep trying to help the lost soul of my friend. All he needs is someone to be as honest to him as I am to myself.
Oh, J. We'll find you in this mess. You "didn't used to be this way"? Forget your past, and let go of who you think you should be. You are so much more.