An entire void

There's a void that's been within me for so long, that it is an actual thing that I would not recognize myself without. It defines me much more than anything else, but I don't think it's apparent to others.

I don't feel like a person. I see people around me, and I admire them, with varying degrees of respect. People fascinate me, but I think I like ideas more than people. Ideas don't really change. Ideas and facts are consistent and stable. I understand ideas and can connect to them. This is why I love science, psychology, and philosophy so much; because through them, people can be broken down into ideas, into aspects that I can relate to, understand, and love.

 I think I love people too.. but I'm not amongst them. I'm something else. I watch those around me go about their lives, thinking and feeling things, being with friends and romantic partners, and that's ok. That's normal. But I feel so far away from even those I consider my closest friends. Love, doesn't seem to be for me. I thought I knew her once, but she's left, and right now I can't see myself becoming reacquainted.

I went to a friend's funeral last night. I don't think I felt like the others there did. They were crying. I didn't, and haven't, cried. Instead I thought. I thought of what life means, the value of it, what value is in itself. Value seems very arbitrary, represented by symbols, things standing in place for something else, something we can't touch or see. If it can't be sensed, how can it be perceived? 

What I'm about to type may be seen as offensive, but I mean no harm. I just want to be able to share what I think. I did not like Ryan's funeral. No one did, right? That's not how I mean it. I did not like it because it did not accomplish for me what I thought a funeral should.  I wanted to be able to feel connected. I wanted to be able to feel great sorrow. I wanted to cry. I wanted the focus to be on his life. Instead, I felt more connected to the wood in the pews and the fibers in my jacket than to Ryan or the others there. I became upset when it was clear that the service was more about religion than about our departed friend. 

I think a big thing about religion, and please excuse me here, is that it's used as an aversive tool. It's used to fabricate hope and happiness, to avoid asking questions, and to deny permanency and sorrow. It's ok that we lost a friend, because he is with God in heaven, and he'll be brought back in the Resurrection, and we'll see him again. What's wrong with saying something has ended, what's wrong with being deeply upset?

I drove home alone in the dark with an odd feeling.  I was hypersensitive to my aloneness, but I welcomed and accepted it. I thought, maybe I will be alone. But that's ok, because my life, human or not, has a purpose. Even if I'm not a person, I can positively affect others that are people. So throughout my depression and negative times, I cannot give up, because I'm here for a reason. 

Yes, I'd like to be able to control the circumstances of my death. I'm not saying I won't end up committing suicide myself one day. But I have things to do first. I'm going to try my damnedest at succeeding, at becoming educated and an educator, at becoming a good friend and a lover, at becoming happy. So until I live out my potential, I'll try to take care of myself, even alone.

For now, I'm just Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening.