Few things terrify me quite like the notion of talking to people, however few things excite quite so much as actually talking with people. I suppose I really want to just be myself as I am, no more, no less. I want to relax and just talk, but I don’t know how. I feel like I’ve actually got something physically restraining me when I try to speak to people. Like I’ve got something covering my mouth preventing me from speaking, unless I say it with exactly the right wording, I feel as though I am physically incapable of speaking it. I don’t know how else to describe the feeling. It’s kind of frustrating, and sometimes rather scary even to me. Of all the things in all the world, I think I frighten myself most of all. I am the one I fear above all other things. I look back over the last ten months since I started blogging, and I see very little change in how I am. I still hesitate to call it a failed experiment, after all, I did take a break over the summer, which I did use to write more journal entries, which are often what I use as a framework for these blog post to begin with, yet, here we are ten months later, and I’m still petrified when it comes to talking with people, still ridiculously secretive, and still feeling like everything is just remaining stationary, not changing. Stagnant even, and I can’t seem to figure out how to even stir the water, or why I want to. I’m lacking in motivation, I have no dreams, I feel apathetic, and do not care about things that used to enthrall me deeply. I question why I do the things that I do, even those things I spend hours and hours doing. (Like learning Mandarin Chinese and French for instance.) I can’t always make sense of myself.

When I write these, I hear these blog post in a Scottish accent, usually either Amy Pond or Merida’s voice as I type them, and I’m quite restless in general. I want to do something, to change something, but I have no idea what. I’m not exactly bored, it’s different than that. It’s like I don’t feel anything at all, except a hatred for the feeling of not feeling anything. It’s a sense of restlessness, really.

When I’m not feeling that, I often feel troubled, but I can’t explain why. I just don’t know. I worry, without out reason, or with reason, I know not. I worry about how can I make a difference, I feel as though I’m really quite insignificant, and that people will go their way, that there is nothing that can be done to truly encourage or help them. I also worry about myself, I second guess myself a lot, which I admit, is not healthy.

I really don’t know, but I wish I did. I remain ever troubled, but why? I know, I know, it is self-condemnation. But, Paul tells me that there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ. Am I in Christ? Yes. Therefore condemnation, which is at the root of my troubles is a lie that I do not need to heed. I worry about those of my generation, I worry about those I love. I worry about the torture of condemnation upon them, I worry about what lies they might believe. I worry about them being precious to me. I worry about them, their souls are beautiful souls, and nothing hurts the soul like condemnation does. I worry about those who seem to think like I do, and hold my personality. I feel pity for them, I know what they will face, if they are the least bit like me, and I feel quite sorry for them as a result. It’s not all bad, I know that, but I also no my worrisome disposition, which is unaffected by logic or reason. I can be as reasonable as possible with myself, and point out the logic and all that, and it still does not make a difference.

Alone, I feel quite alone, really. Worst part is, I know I’m not the only one who feels it, there are literally hundreds and thousands of other people who feel so alone. We want friendship, and a community, but we don’t know how to reach beyond our own borders. The internet is a good thing overall, yet at the same time, I do not think we’re quite wired for it ourselves. I wouldn’t trade the many, many, wonderful people I’ve met online for all the world, yet I can’t forget that there is a certain ‘human’ element missing. Almost all interactions take place through the written word, which is fine, and we humans have been communicating via the written word for thousands of years. But we have not the benefit of a local community, it is now possible to be completely alone in the midst of a crowd.

It is the feeling of being alone, and so is everyone around me, but how to reach out?