I Just Want To Belong

Since taking CBD, I can recognize how much healthier I am. I went a day without it because we ran out and I could feel it. I wasn’t back to normal, but it was like I was falling off a cliff in slow motion staring at the ground that was once beneath my feet.

But one thing I have been able to do is analyze myself. I’m a creative and everything, but I still find myself being extremely analytical. It’s either I’m a logical wall or an emotional blob. I’m still working on that one.

I analyzed something in myself today that broke my heart. And that right there is weird already. Normally, when thinking internally, I don’t feel sorry for myself. We are taught not to. No sympathy for yourself, and don’t go looking for it either. You’ll just get chastised. But sympathy does something to us. It makes us search for a solution. Sympathy puts our thinking caps on because we are experiencing a pain regardless who it is.

I’m not saying that I wallowed in my own misery, what I am saying is for a moment my heart was broken that someone in this world was feeling this way. At the time I just forgot it was me.

So I saw something on Twitter for ancestery.com. It was like, “You last name could mean more than you think!”  I was like, I should google my last name and see where it comes from. I’m a white person. A white person who was raised in a white society that didn’t care what white you were, just that you were white. I didn’t have culture. I’ve never had culture. I just belong to this giant group of people. A group so giant, I am lost in the numbers.

And that bothers me. I don’t realize it does, but it does. Not belonging bothers anyone. We are biologically programmed to want to belong. In my research for work, I read that our brains have similar reacts to social rejection as it does pain. There is a reason we want to be involved, and it is because we need each other.

And I need something. I’m not entirely sure what I am looking for, but I realized a little today. My name is English and Scottish. Apparently, there are a bunch of people with my last name all over the place in the UK. I get so excited over here in the states when someone has my last name, it never happens. I imagine where down the line our families separated or if there were fueds and battles. But it’s a rare occurrence.

So I told my husband, I want to go there! And I thought about the feeling of walking around a town that I have never been to and already feeling connected somehow. Having that feeling of belonging.

And that is when my heart broke. I want to travel halfway across the world just so I could possibly maybe feel like I might belong.

I don’t belong in my family. My sister has dumped the family as I have dumped her. My mother is still struggling with maturity because of her mental illness. My half-brother and his family are amazing and perfect and out of my league. My husband’s family is the soft southern HUGE family that you just have to be born in to really feel a part of. My friends… are limited. There is no group or community I find myself in. I used to, but not anymore.

In school, I was in the band. I was a girl percussionist so I was already “cool”, and I was good so that made me popular in our band community. I didn’t “look” like a band nerd and I was loud and obnoxious which granted me a lot of friends in class, and the teachers loved me because of my innocence. I belonged.

When I left high school I hit the party days. I always had a crew. And I usually was the center of attention because I demanded it and it was usually my house we were partying at. When I got into my dealing days, I was the queen of a party house. I belonged there. And when that all ended, I remember sitting in the jail cell thinking about how it was all fake. None of those people were in that cell with me. Only two road with me to jail and got to leave. I was alone.

Now I’m 26, and I have no group, no family, no friends to dive into and feel like I belong. I just have my husband. Which is great and amazing but I just want more. Maybe this is why people like me have kids. But I will never bring in a life to this world just to make myself feel better because the will most likely turn out like my sister and I. They will most likely suffer the way I did. And I wouldn’t want to put this on anyone. It is not a child’s job to fix my problems, I only wish more parents realized that.

I fantasize about being in a group of vagabonds. We just have gypsy vans that travel around the country. Never calling a place home because home is where your family is.  Living the hard life but being surrounded by people who love you and understand you.

I am so lost in this world. And I just wish I knew the solution.

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