Dexter

I recently started watching the TV Series, Dexter. I usually only stick to comedies that 30 minutes long because of my short attention span but I have made some exceptions and Dexter is one of them. It is a horror of  a series which is up my alley because I am addicted to watching shows on the ID channel which has to do with real life killings. Although Dexter is a serial killer, I can identify with a lot of his personal thoughts. If you watch the show then you will understand this blog entry. I am only on the second season but I can already feel his personal pain. I could never understand the pain of losing a parent to murder but I can understand the pain of losing oneself. Dexter is lost in his pain as am I.

Dexter feels all alone after his foster father passes away because his father was the only one who knew his secret until he found out he had a brother who also knew his secret. His brother passed and Dexter once again was left alone in his pain, in his thoughts. Dexter there is no one out there who would understand and he hides like he was taught to hid. I guess in a way we are all taught to hid who we really are, we are taught to behave our Sunday best.

So who can we turn to? Who do we turn to when all we want to do is scream? All we want to do is run? All we want to do is punch? Who? Who would understand? And even if we can understand each other's pain, will we be sincere with sympathy? Or would we be narcissistic? Are we capable of understanding each other's pain? Or do we just put up a front for every to see, just like Dexter.

The Whole Me

Today I realized one of the reason I am so depressed. I don't know who I am.I don't think I have ever known. Growing up I was the one my mom depended on to take care of my younger sister and nephew. Around my friends I tend to be the quiet one and when I did participate I was the weird one. To my older sisters I was the baby sister and I was the spoiled one. My sister's friends call me the brat. Then I got married and I became Hector's wife and I was  there to support his needs and wants. My favorite one was Nicole and Tati's mom although I went from Mommy to Mom very quick. What was the hardest for me was the year Hector and I were separated, I was the left one, the one everyone felt sorry for, the one fighting for something that no one believed in but me. During that time I totally lost myself.

I often wonder how others see me. I've been described from charming to intimidating, from sweet to snobby. I guess I am all those things more or less but I still don't know who I am. I don't know my purpose. I can even identify myself in my career because I don't have one. I am the one who has had too many jobs to count. I am the one who didn't college. I am the mess up to put it mildly.

I am the with all the potential but it all went to waste.

Marisol

Some days

Sadness

Venting

I only want someone I can spill my soul to and there would be no judgement only understanding.