Being a Human

nine thousand three hundred and ninety two days on this planet and I still don’t like it.

Hi, I’m Haley and welcome to my blog. The blog that started out as a documentation of a wandering life, but has turned into more of a journal entry the past few weeks.

Maybe it’s because I feel alone and am trying to make connections with strangers on the internet. Who really knows? The human experience is a weird one.

When I say I don’t like it here, I don’t mean in a depressing way. Not that I want to leave. I just don’t understand it, humans mostly. We’re such sensitive and sweet creatures, but yet so hostile and hurtful (myself not excluded I am a human). It’s like we’re always confused, but just can’t seem to get it right. We’re hurt and hurting, but hurting those who are also hurting. We’re not all that great, us humans in my opinion….but we’re not all that bad either.

Being a human is hard. I think I am constantly reminded of that. Every time I think it’s easy and I can do it, it just get’s messier and more complicated. Especially right now. I feel like such a ball of tangled up dark emotions. A ball that just keeps getting bigger and tossed around.

I don’t know if it’s the Holidays or my own garbage. Maybe it’s seeing everyone I know with their families and people…. and me not having that and unknowingly being bitter. Maybe it’s the mental illness or the trauma, leaving me with the idea that I am alone here. Maybe it is a lot more simpler than all of that. Maybe it’s a combination of everything that is leaving me with feeling like a disassociated human.

I know I am not the only one who feels like this. Nor the only person who feels like these pieces get worse during the Holidays. Which is why it felt like an important segment in a blog post today. Anything for people to know they’re not alone.

I don’t know what makes it better. I know we’re supposed to “heal our trauma’s and not bleed out on people who didn’t hurt us”, but how do you heal when you don’t know how? You’re trying, but you’re just hanging from a branch of a tree trying not to fall, while everyone else is at the top just staring at you and not saying anything.

I think people think they want to help. Until they realize what that entails, because we’re all just damaged people fixing damaged people at the end of the day. Somewhere along the way we become annoyed with people for their damages, I know I have felt the annoyance directed towards me by so many in my life that I’ve been open and honest with. It’s not like people who are hurting are trying to cause you distress and annoyance. We’re hurting, we’re trying to find people who can help.

I don’t really know how to navigate the big ball of emotions without causing a big mess, but I’m trying. I’m writing a blog post where the words don’t really flow, terrified I won’t make any sense, all because writing is good for us – right? I’m trying to get movement and not stay in my bed all day but it’s hard.

Being a human is hard.

Being a human is weird.

Being a human is messy.

Being a human is heartbreaking.

Incase you haven’t been told lately, you’re doing a great job at being a human. You’re trying and that’s all that matters.

We’re all here for different reasons. And even if your reason isn’t filled with as much love and acceptance as everyone else’s seems to be, it’s still serving a purpose.

We’re all trying the best we know how, as we navigate life on this big giant rock floating around a giant ball of fire.

It sounds much simpler when we leave it at that.

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Someone once told me to never stop writing, so I'm not.

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