Is this real life…..

I waiver in and out of the understanding of reality and being unsure of my reality.  I confess a large portion of my existence has had in interesting perspective on my reality.  As a borderline I have what is referred to as the Truman show perspective.  I remember even as young as 9 or 10 thinking people are listening and watching me, even when there aren’t people within close proximity of me physically.
I remember walking around the outer fence line in the playground feilds. I would sing or tell stories out loud for who ever was listening.  I believe I always talked loud so who ever was trying to hear, didn’t have to struggle. 
I was thinking on this weird thought perception yesterday and thought how strange of me to think all the people in my life could be supporting lead characters and everyone else are extras. Strange only due to the fact that they’d be wasting there lives playing a part in mine. Although it would explain why no one stays long and they all leave for long periods of time before coming around again.
Sometimes I wonder if this is real. Life can really feel like a dream sometimes.  Or I can feel like an observer, just watching life happen to the flesh that is in cases my egsistance. 
I am neutral. .. I let events and other people’s reactions dictate what and how I float through each seas of my life. Periodically losing my identity to a new one. I ponder all the “this is the real me” and wonder who the true identity is. Or if there is one at all. What if I am in fact am not real. Some pieced together persona, a bunch of little copies of many, housed in this completely un-authentic pile of flesh.  In one moment I might feel completely unique and absolute in who I am as an individual and the next I hate everything about myself and begin this desperate grasp at who am I? What should I look like, how should I dress or wear my hair? Am I acting right? I desperately want to wipe the slate clean and be the real me, when in reality I don’t know who that is.
I constantly question what people really think about me or are saying when they know I can’t hear them.
In this moment of desperately trying to identify who I am, I also have a desperate need for it all to end.  I mean why keep riding the rollercoaster. Isn’t it truly repetitive even if the  scenery changes it’s the same up’s and down’s and sharp turns. No one stays in the seat next to me for very long so basically I am a solo rider with random people riding next to me. All while I beg them to stay on, while I secretly want off myself.
I wonder what would be different in my life if I’d never been touched inappropriately.  Or if I’d bonded with my mother better.  If my brain was normal.  Would relationships be so hard? Who would I be? What if I wasn’t boardline?   What if my mom had an abortion? ….would have saves me all the trouble of actually in during all this shit. Sometimes I think about heaven and hell and hope they don’t exist.  Save me the trouble of in during anything after I finally give up on life.
I am just the narrator. ..


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