Do you know who I am?

It’s not a social media rant. This really isn’t. It’s more of a “I don’t understand how people think and behave, and clearly the same can be said in the reverse”.

Lots of things happen all the time, every day, which make me ask the question “do you really know me like you think you do?” Which is weird, because it’s most likely just my brain over thinking things, and not realising that people can read me like a book.

Also, I’m running on about 5 hours sleep in 2 days, so naturally my brain is all OVER the fucking place.

Anyway, I don’t think people ARE reading me like a book. Or at least, they ARE reading me like a book, but they’re not actually seeing the book which is in front of them; rather, one which they’ve read elsewhere and are therefore applying it here. To me. Which is frustrating, because since my mind never ever ceases to stop ticking, it analyses everything all the time.

So when people react to me in a certain way, and it feels like they’re being a douche, I can’t help but wonder: is that how they think they can be with me, or am I the actual douche here??

I also find it hard when people say those 4 words which, for some reason always strikes fear in my ass (and I clench for a little while), “I read your blog”.

Mostly, I have no idea what I write in my blog. I rarely read posts back (why would I? I mostly talk shit.) and so therefore don’t have much recollection of what I’ve written. My blog has been, and always will be, a place to vent the random pent-up crap floating around inside my head. But considering how much I share, here on CG and on twitter and on Facebook and whatever…do people think they know everything there is to know? I often wonder about people’s deep dark secrets. And yet, strangely, I rarely ask because people are quick to divulge information. A few of my friends are very wary about the Oversharing In Social Media, and I get that. But how do we know exactly how far “oversharing” is? What some people might see of my sharing on the surface, well that may seem like a lot to them. But do they understand that it’s NOTHING compared to with the Jupiter sized mass of info, still kept beneath the surface?

I guess that also makes me think of one of those bloody meme things going round, a meaningful picture with some sentimental words. The one which springs to mind is this one.

I rarely care for such things, but this one is one I always want to ram down people’s throats when they think they’re being funny/clever/a smartass, and instead, they’re just coming across as an epic asshole. See, I’m always acutely aware of the bajillion things I never mention on my blog. I frequently think about how one day, I wonder if I will spill my guts in my own first Blognonymous post. I wonder if the secrets I plan to take to the grave, those of mine and of others who have confided their trust in me, will ever see the light of day. I contemplate the thoughts that go round my mind, and regularly (and quite seriously) question my sanity. I ask myself if these thoughts are socially acceptable. Some thoughts come with such ease and so naturally, I wonder who would be more fearful – others, or myself.

There are things which people talk about all the time, their troubles and woes and problems. And I feel for them, I genuinely do. That patronising “Oh I totally understand, I know how you feel”, IS patronising. But more often than not, I get it, I really do, and more so than I would like. And so, I hope I’m a more compassionate person for having gone through whatever. I hope it makes me more understanding, more sensitive, and less of a cunt when people are spilling their broken souls to me.

I always, always think about everything I have been through, and remember the words above. I don’t proclaim to have the worst life story out there, but I will, hand on heart, say that I have had way beyond more than my “fair share”.

At the end of the day, no one knows who I really am. And I’m ok with that. It reassures me, it comforts me. I don’t want everyone knowing everything there is to know about me. But wouldn’t it be a wonderful thing if more people remembered that? If more people remembered that, just because someone is or seems to be so open, it doesn’t mean their entire soul is bared? Or, wouldn’t it be brilliant if people considered that, sometimes I do bare my soul, probably more than I should, and that souls are delicate things?

I know who I am. And I know I’m to be fighting battles until the day I die.