There are just too many times people have tried to look inside of me.

Over the year, so many things have changed. I think I've become less of a person than I was at the beginning. Everything that has made me who I am is slowly diminishing. My passion for writing has dwindled dramatically, though I'm hoping I can get rekindle the flame. My sense of humor is now childlish, weak, and unfunny...a fact which saddens me greatly. My hopeless romantic side, though a prominent feature, has had all dignity stripped away by my crippling shyness, dull mind, and lack of personality.
I still have something like a personality, I suppose, but it's not really me. Nobody sees me as who I am...or rather, who I was. When I am not silent and invisible, or brooding and angry, or depressed and lonely, I am a result of a lack of confidence and an overwhelming desire to be accepted...childish, silly, loud, and unable to say anything remotely intelligent. That is perhaps my saddest loss...a comeback used to come easily, while now I stumble through th easiest of questions and make the stupidest mistakes. Conversations are dull.
Another disturbing trait I have gained is my lack of enthusiasm. Things that used to excite me hold no more luster, and I don't feel the need to do anything. Most of my day is spent in front of a screen of some sort. Have I become so unimaginative I can find nothing better to do than wait desperately for one of my friends to log on to Yahoo? To be honest, I disgust myself. How could this have happened? How could I become this lifeless ghost?
Please tell me if you have the answer.
-
I wrote this a month or two ago. This is how I express anger, in case you were wondering. In this case, anger at myself.
No one has any idea what I feel on a day-to-day basis, because even I don't know. I can never find the right words. Hollow. Lonely. I don't know.
At the same time, I'm angry at myself for feeling this way, because I've had such an easy life, and millions of people go through the same things I do. I'm just being a selfish brat. I don't deserve to feel bad about myself.
There's so much I need to say, but the words just aren't there. Then I want to scream, because my head is moving in slow motion while my fingers (typing) can't move fast enough. Like now. But I don't have the breath to scream.
I need to get back to how it was. To who I was. But I don't know how anymore.