Confusion...

WARNING: Emotional content. Viewer discretion is advised.

So, I haven't posted in a while. Everything's just really confusing now. My last day of high school was today...I just wish I could join in with everyone else and their simple gladness that they're moving on. But something is holding me back, like it always does.

Its not that I'm glad to be out of the hellhole called Schenectady High, its just difficult to leave. I never had many friends there, but it was just...familiar. I could go there knowing I'd see certain people at certain times, knowing what teachers I could talk to about what subjects, just feeling comfortable. But its over. The whole routine, after getting to know my classmates for 4 years, and suddenly just having it all drop away from beneath me, its just hard.

I can't find the right words to express what I'm feeling, and its killing me. If I'm supposed to be this great writer, then why can't I find the words that matter? I mean, I have all these emotions that I could write about, but its like I can only write them when I'm not feeling anything. Someone I know from school wrote a note on Facebook (haha, this sounds so unprofessional) where he talked about how he always has this mask on so that nobody can hurt him. I kind of feel that's what I do...I always seem to get hurt when I try to open up, so I just sucked back into myself, never speaking or trying to make friends. I don't know if it was fear, or what else it could be. Now, I just don't seem to know how to open up anymore, even when I write.

Everyone always talks about how beautiful my poetry is, and how deep the emotions I expressed are...but no matter how much I get complicated, I always hate what I wrote, and even that I do write. I never want people to see that side of me, especially friends. And its weird, since what I write is completely fabricated. I guess its a double edged blade...I'm too scared to show what I really feel because I'll just get hurt again, but I still feel the need to write anyway. So I fabricate emotions in poetry, and then I hate it because it isn't real.

It feels like I built up this whole wall to keep everyone out, and once it solidified I wanted to bring people back in, but I just couldn't. Now I feel, well, empty all the time. Sometimes I even feel hated. But, I brought it on myself. I think the biggest enemy I have is myself. I'm always tearing myself down. Its almost like because its something I was practically raised with, I do it to myself for a twisted feeling of comfort. Maybe even a feeling of home. But what kind of home is that? Home should be safe...how can my pain bring a sense of home?

Sorry for the rambling...I don't know, I'm just really confused right now. Maybe when I'm not insanely emotional for no apparent reason, I can explain things better. Or maybe at that point I'll just be fabricating it all again.

*Prime candidate for therapy here*