Identity Disturbance

A couple of my musings as of late seem to fall under the same theme. With that in mind I have decided to spare you all several separate posts on essentially the same thing and combine them in to one, longer post. Aren't you lucky ;)

__________________________________________________________________

Pieces

Right now I feel a little like I am trying to put together a puzzle (which, by the way, is one of my least favorite past times). Never having been very good at them I am easily frustrated because I am making almost no headway at all. There's a reason for that, I have discovered. It seems that what I have been given to work with is not one whole puzzle. It feels as if I have been given a box of mismatched pieces. Wooden pieces, cardboard pieces, foam pieces. Big, small, and in between. Round and square edges. As you might have guessed it doesn't work very well. Oh some of the pieces match. There's an eye here, a watering can there. But there's nothing with which to make a picture. What makes it that much worse is that the puzzle and the jumble of mismatched pieces is my life. I'm trying to put together a (WHOLE, WORKING) person from this mish-mosh of things and I have no idea how to do it. And at this time, it seems, I am doing it mostly on my own.
_______________________________________________________________

What I Really Need

Sometimes I think what I really need is a stylist, not a therapist. In my attempt to piece together an identity I keep landing on my 'look'. I don't know, it's almost as if I feel that if I can get a handle on that it will help somehow. I believe in a previous post I mentioned that I recently came to the conclusion that my brother, sister, and I had little choice but to become the people we did and that in my case at least it is not necessarily who I am. And that includes 'look'. Mine, before, was what I have referred to as 'regionally casual' (the region would be 'identifying information' which I try to keep to a minimum). It fit with my family. But it doesn't seem to have fit with me. I know how to dress that part. I know how to act that part. But I think, I feel that it is simply that. A part. Just another Mask. And I'm so tired of masks. They serve a purpose, I know, but can I be honest? They hurt. They really do. Like smiling can hurt (How Smiling Can Hurt) so can employing a mask.

Only problem now is... having come to the conclusion that I am not this 'regionally casual' person... who am I? I have some of those pieces. I love my Converse (I won't tell you how many pair I own; I am sure there are people with more but it's still pretty sad in my opinion). My glasses (which I recently decided I liked the look of better than my contacts) are rectangular, black, and bold. My bangs (also a new discovery) are cut low and (mostly) straight across (they get a little longer as they go out, if you understand my meaning). But for the most part I have no real clue and no idea how to figure it all out. I have to stumble across it, it seems, and that could very well take too long.

*shakes head* It sounds so absolutely trivial and yet it feels so very vital...