It’s all fun and games until you realise nobody is there when the laughter ends

I have always joked about having an alternative personality inside of me, that of a girl. Sometimes I even say that it is actually my real one. But no, I don’t have it. I have feminine traits, yes, but not enough to form a ‘personality’. I guess it’s just a way for me to create a protection bubble for myself – to feel safe in it.

This sort of unresolved crisis leaves individuals struggling to “find themselves.” They may go on to seek a negative identity, which may involve crime or drugs or the inability to make defining choices about the future. “The basic strength that should develop during adolescence is fidelity, which emerges from a cohesive ego identity”.

[…]

They often seem to have no idea who or what they are, where they belong or where they want to go. They may withdraw from normal life, not taking action or acting as they usually would at work, in their marriage or at school. They may even turn to negative activities, such as crime or drugs, as a way of dealing with identity crisis. To someone having an identity crisis, it is more acceptable to them to have a negative identity than none at all.

That’s the Wikipedia entry for the term ‘Identity crisis’. I don’t know if I’m going through something similar, or if it qualifies as a ‘crisis’. The term just popped into my head all of the sudden. But I do find myself to be…undefined. I don’t have any real hobby, I have never felt too strongly about any particular topics, I don’t even know if I like someone. Life is a big ‘whatever’ for me. Which should explains why I struggle so bad with the question “Please tell me about yourself” during interviews. I don’t even know myself, how could I tell you about it?

This makes me a pretty boring one. I can’t make conversation, I don’t have any talent, I can’t play instrument, I don’t have a hobby. Obviously I can’t be popular. But a part of me can’t stand being unpopular. That part craves attention. That part wants to be recognized, to be praised by others. And that part manifests itself as this ‘person’ who is very charismatic, funny and friendly to everyone. I even spice it up by adding feminine stuff to it, creating someone I called ‘Little Moon’ – or Moonie.

Eww. I know. But that’s just something I have to do. To have something I can identify as myself. To have something OTHERS can identify as me. And that identity is what keeps me around people, and keeps people around me. To have an ready joke I could make to make people like me. I believe the real me is somewhat akin to an irritating old geezer who lives alone in an apartment full of dust, snapping at anyone who tries to get close. ‘Crazy old bastard’ would be spot on.

I have very few friends who I actually consider as ‘friends’ because those are the one I can still tolerate when I don’t bother to put up that ‘nice guy’ barriers around me. And I am afraid to let more people in. Once they know who I am underneath, I won’t be able to create another bubble to hide in. That’s what scares me the most. Being ‘naked’.

I guess me being a pussy is another extension of this behaviour. I am always too scared to take a step forward. I am terrified to ask a girl I like out for a cup of coffee because I am afraid of having nothing to say, exposing my colorless personality. I am more concerned with keeping the illusion of a guy who is ‘keeping more than he is showing and not just being plain boring/stupid’ rather than actually going for that girl. The same kind of fear that keeps me away from swimming pools. The what-if-I-die attitude.

I don’t know if it’s because of the depression I used to have or it is because I can no longer maintain a viable illusion, but I can’t be funny anymore. I don’t see the hilarious stuff in everything like I used to. I can’t make fun of any situation like I used to. Hell, I remember there once was a time where girls sent me friend requests just after some talking. Now? Right now I think I’m coming off as a creepy guy who stalks the one he likes in an obvious way but can’t get his shit together to actually have a meaningful conversation with her. Ha. Ha.

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