Doubt

I just want to be happy. I chide myself when I'm sad because I know how good my life is.

I wonder if I'm retarded. Slow, dull, boring, apathetic, simple. Maybe I had more permanent brain damage than I thought. I know that I have my flaws and I'm earnestly trying to address them. I think people tend to forget that I exist. People will confide in me because I am a great listener and very supportive. But sometimes I doubt people will miss me when I'm gone. My family will, of course. But what about my friends who aren't obligated by blood? I suppose when I'm dead I'll finally stop caring about what people think of me.

How many people have noticed my absence on Facebook? Do any of them care? Maybe if people just responded to my messages. Or invited me to something once in a while. Asked me how I'm doing and meant it. Just gave a damn. It'd feel wonderful if anyone read this blog and let me know they enjoyed something about it by leaving a comment.

I know I'm being dramatic. I am blessed to have amazing friends. This feeling of disappointment, anger, and confusion is beating me, though. I don't emote very strongly, but it's always the sadness of feeling isolated that is the strongest. I feel like I've given to people and not gotten much back.