Yes, it’s true. I am the black sheep of the family. I am not really sure how this happened. Just one day, people in my family stopped caring about me.

Maybe it was my fault. When things tend to pile up and get to me, I tend to shut down. But this one time, I decided I should let people know how I was feeling and I let people in my family know what was going on.

In return I was greeted by an uncomfortable silence on one end and on the other end I was told I should have known better.

I didn’t really remember asking for advice; I was just explaining the situtation. But to be toldI should have known better really was a difficult thing to hear. It maybe be feel like what I felt wasn’t worth anything and I was stupid for having these feelings in the first place. Nothing like having your family tell you that you are dumb for wanting to just step off the spinning wheel for a bit to regroup.

So then I guess I stopped trusting people. I stopped letting them in.

Here it is the holidays and nothing brings up the fact that I am an outcast. The only thing I ever really wanted was a family and I have done nothing but loose it. Even the family I tried to create for myself is keeping its distance from me.

How did this happen? Why did this happen?

Maybe I am too afraid to disappoint another person, so I just shut the world out. Maybe it just takes too much energy to fight a battle I didn’t even know I was fighting.

I just know that I am lonely. I want so much to just be hugged. I would just break down in tears of joy if someone I loved just took a few minutes to say hello to me. Sure, if they actual acknowledged that I was alive and gave me a small token of love this year, I would probably cry for days.

I used to think I was a good person. I thought that people loved and cared about me. I tried to let those I cared about know I loved them by giving them all that I could give them.

But at the end of the day, if the people I love can’t even stand me, then what? If those people can’t love and forgive me, then really, I have nothing and I am nothing.

Then why am I still here?

A big part of me still clings to the hope that maybe I am just wrong in how I feel. Maybe those people really do love me, but don’t understand how I think and feel. I have hope that I won’t always feel this way. I continue trying to give all I can to people. I still donate my time and money to causes I believe in. Maybe I do all of that in the hope that whatever crime I have done can be erased by these good deeds. Which then continues to back fire because I am not doing it for the right reasons.

But I don’t know. In my heart, I give because I can and I understand how much it hurts when no one cares. I live every day of my life knowing that I will never be good enough and yet I keep going on.

I guess it’s just that hope factor. Also, I am pretty curious.

Well, happy holidays.