What if I'm no one

Warning: this post is a post written for me. To get my feelings out of my head where they go around and around. There is no obligation to read it.

The voice inside me has always told me that I have to be someone. I have to achieve something amazing. Change the world. Affect people's lives. Not just this. This living.

I think it was created by my belief that I am no one. By being told when I was younger that I could "be someone". That I had so much potential. But never really believing it. I have a constant internal conflict between the two extremes. Seeing all my old school friends on facebook, seeing them graduate uni, travel, have awesome careers, makes it so much harder. It makes me feel like I'm a failure. None of them have jobs that create world peace or cure cancer (as far as I'm aware), but they are more somebody than me. I know I shouldn't compare myself to others. I know each life stands alone, with its own misery and happiness. It's own difficulties and successes. I know life is not a points scoring competition with a ledger kept on each person to determine worth. I KNOW this. Yet...

When I started using twitter it made me feel good about myself. I liked that people knew who I was, there was a modicum of popularity. Something I'd never had before. My lack of filter and inability to stop myself from saying the things no one else would say had never worked in my favour before. I had finally found a place I could be me. Yet now, three years later, I feel that it was all just a trick. The small amount of comfort I had found was just an illusion. I'm now back to being no one again. Worthless.

People talk about how they are a different person online than they are offline. I never was. I don't know if I know how. I'm always just me. That's why it hurt so much when someone I admired and respected told me "I like you. I just don't like twitter you." That was the beginning of the end. "But I am twitter me" the voice inside me cried out. "People don't really like you. They don't actually care. No one gives a damn about whether you're here or not" it said to me. That was when I really started to withdraw. And when I started to withdraw no one cared. My self doubt was reinforced. 

The perfectionist inside me gave up. Because if you can't be one of the best at something don't do it. It's why I've given up on so many things in my life. It's why I don't draw any more. It's why I don't blog for months. If I can't do something to the highest standard then I shouldn't do it. Yet I hesitate to delete my twitter account. It became the definition of me and without it I am even less of a someone. Even more of a no one. 

I've even contemplated deleting facebook. Then I'd have no friends. No one to talk to when things were hard. No social interaction at all. As sad and pathetic as it is, facebook is the closest I come to social interaction most weeks. I'm struggling at the moment. Going places is hard.

So what do I do? Do I accept that I'm no one and I never will be and make peace with that? Am I even able to do that? Will I ever not be broken?