The Real Me

When people told me that blogs are loners diary I didn't believe, I still don't but in my case I guess it's true though I don't blog much, I do write a lot which I don't publish.
So basically I'm trying to figure out why I'm a loner or rather why I doesn't matter in someone's life to a great extent. Why don't I have the confidence to speak up without stuttering and stammering with someone new? Why can't I take my decisions quickly, I'm indecisive?

Maybe because of the people around me or maybe I don't have the guts to speak up.
But whatever it is I want to change it, I want to come out of this shell, I want to do what my heart tell me to do. I want to be the real me. When I look at people chattering, speaking boldly with everyone I want to do that.
I want to answer the questions the lecturer asks in class with confidence even if the answer is wrong. I want to speak the words which I write out loud. I know that actually I'm not like this, I'm not reserved, I'm not silent, I want to have a lot of friends, I want to tell my mom that she IS wrong and I'm correct, I want to tell her to shut up for once (she keeps chattering non stop, my head will explode some day). I want to go out somewhere for a week ALONE, just me.
I don't know what I should do for all these things to happen but I don't know how.

I READ A BOOK and IT'S A THRILLER

It's not like it's the first time I've read a thriller or a crime novel, I've read many many of them. But the thing I find weird after reading them is that for the next few days after I read them I feel as if someone is following me, every time the door bell rings I feel as though the moment I open the door someone is going point a gun at me or even worse someone might just burst through the doors and a bullet rips through my head. I once read two thrillers one after the other.  There was a lot of blood and chase and guns and goons and obviously suspense in those books. I can't explain how I felt for the next few days, only a few days. I wasn't actually scared but it just felt like I was in the story of those stories and I was a part of them as I have a tendency to visualise myself a part of the book, to place myself in the shoes of some character in the book (usually it's  the main character) and every night after I read book I try to think of what happens next or what would I have done if I was in that place, which I guess is common with people who read more (simply put: book addicts). So every thing that triggered any reference to the story would get my heart running. Yeah, I know how crazy it sounds but it was only for two or three days, after that that feeling was gone and all was normal. It's amazing how the human brain...... actually I have to say my works as I can't about everyone who reads a thriller feels the same. How does that happen? I have read somewhere that our brain can not tell the difference of a memory or visualization. That means my brain can't tell if I had visualised myself in a crime scene or if it was real memory.
So when I visualised myself in those thriller novels I read and that too two of them it was like a overdose to my brain. It didn't know what was true and what wasn't. Most likely everything got mixed up, one story combined with other but the common thing about those books was that there was lots of incidents that happens in daily life like opening doors, shopping etc and everytime something like that happens in those books it ends with someone getting shot or someone getting kidnapped. So even the smallest trigger relating to those events in the books might send my stupid brain frenzy and it sends me the stimulus to think that someone is standing outside the door with a gun. So I check a hundred times before I open the door, which makes mother to stand outside her own house for five minutes carrying heavy bags full of groceries. Once she is in I would get share of scolding's for not opening the door fast. But I really can't explain her that I thought someone was trying kill me. Like, it would obviously sound stupid. Well, for a fact I don't even know why I'm writing about it. I mean what's the point? That I'm crazy? maybe, or maybe because I just completed readed another crime novel half an hour ago. But then again life goes on and tomorrow I'll read a romantic novel and fall in love with the main character in the book and so as it happens I try to find that guy in every person I see.

But whatever it is as usual I don't think I really wanted to write what I've written but I guess it turned out to be good stuff or maybe my crazy brain think's it to be good.