Behind the Face Paint

Woke up feeling not quite myself, today.  Recent events have popped up and has been making me feel... Well, feeling a little strange.

A gal reached out to me on Facebook.  She'd come across some of my posts, checked out my profile and became enamoured with me.  We've been chatting on Facebook Messenger for a few days and we've been getting along nice.  She pays me all sorts of compliments, saying things that, quite honestly, I've never heard from anyone in my entire life.  Even past romantic trysts, never garnered me the compliments that I've been receiving the past couple of days.  I don't know how to react to it all, quite frankly. 🤔

It took me back to high school.  Grade nine science class.  I recall a girl, Sabrina was her name, who began slipping me notes that told me 'she liked me'.  This completely threw me off.  Up to this point, I'd always been bullied and made fun of, but now this exquisite young girl was telling me that I was valid in a way, telling me she 'liked me'.  It was a new feeling that overwhelmed me and I didn't act on it and as quickly as she'd entered my life, she slipped through my fingers.

Sabrina was a highly intelligent young girl, a part of the gifted program, if I'm not mistaken.  By the twelfth grade, I believe she'd become a fashion model, too.  What if I'd acted upon that initial compliment, I often wondered.  Would I have been a happier adolescent?  Probably not.  She'd have been smart enough to see through my facade to see the true Jeff and would have dumped my pathetic ass in a broken heart beat. 💔

I was probably as unaware then as I am now, that I suffered from some sort of undiagnosed depression.  I've always felt, on some level, that I didn't deserve happiness or friendship.  Hell, I think I sort of still feel that way.  I have all kinds of friends around me, but in the end, I always feel sad and lonely.  I think this may be why I feel connected to clowns, to a degree.  Many clowns hide behind their make up.  A mask that they put on to fool people into thinking they're happy, when really their hearts are filled with sorrow.  I don't wear grease paint and powders, but I've managed to fool everyone into thinking that I'm happy or...  Or an asshole.  People tend to either like me or hate me.  There rarely seems to be a middle ground.

This girl, or woman I should say, who I met through Facebook, claims to see the real me.  We've answered each others questions and she claims to see the real me.  Is it possible, I wonder?  Can a person see inside another persons psyche just through texts and DMs?  I know that through such means, a person doesn't need to hide who they are, as they do in a face-to-face scenario.  I've always thought this to be the truth.  However, it's only been a few days.  A few hours of text exchanges.  We've barely scratched the surface of getting to know one another.  It's all so confusing to me.

As I've said, I'm not used to anyone giving me compliments.  Even my parents, when I was growing up, never expressed any positive affirmations or love, for that matter, towards me.  I was always viewed as that bastard who ruined their lives.  Or at least, that's how I was made to feel.

I recently saw a post on Facebook that someone shared that said, and I'm paraphrasing, that you should treat everyone with compassion because you don't know what they might be going through.  Maybe they've just had a family member die.  Or they lost their job.  Or they're going through something that no one knows about.  I identified with that as I seem to continually ride a rollercoaster that fluctuates between happy highs and detrimental lows.

There's a song by the Insane Clown Posse called "Behind The Paint".  It basically explains how they were shunned and ignored by classmates and girls when they were in high school, but the moment they became famous, everyone wanted on them, like white on rice.  By the songs end, they reveal that they've always been that same person, but the paint hid that from the public.  This is kinda how I feel.  Throughout the years, I've been able to hide the shy unworthy kid from my peers, but when I shut my front door, I'm that same uncertain kid that I was in high school.

I have friends, but secretly, I don't know how I acquired them, nor do I understand why they stick with me or if I'm even worthy or deserving of having them.

I'm going to continue conversing with this woman on the Facebook Messenger, for the time being.  Who knows where it will lead.  Likely nowhere.  She lives in sunny southern California and I'm essentially stuck here in the Bridge City.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go hug my cat, because I feel like I'm going to cry. 😔