I haven’t been sleeping all that well. I haven’t had too much trouble falling asleep, but staying asleep has been an issue. I’ve been waking up when people come home late at night and are loud, mostly Armando, but I’ve been waking up multiple times a night besides that too. I don’t know what’s up. Maybe it’s because this place isn’t home.
I woke up, showered, and then was off to Motive. I spent the whole time going through Erin’s friends on facebook and updating her Blackberry. It took FOREVER. The whole time pretty much. I started Friday, but didn’t get very far, so I had to get through the rest of them today. Tedious.
When I came home, Nico and Tim were cooking, it looked like for something special, so I went and chillaxed with Scout in my room. Then I heard Melanie come over. It wasn’t a big deal until she started talking about the house. It shouldn’t have bothered me, but it did. Every day I regret my decisions, question my desires, and allow my emotions to run over my attempts at logic. My weakness and cowardice are proven over and over again. I’m tired of it. I’m regretful and ashamed of what I’ve done. Of what I didn’t do.
I spent the rest of the evening talking to Armando and looking for houses. I’m starting to stress a little. I thought Nico and Melanie had been long gone, but then they came back. I thought about going back into my room, but it wasn’t worth it. I need to grow up. I shouldn’t be bitter. Especially towards her. She didn’t do anything. And even if she did, she probably wouldn’t know it. She seems kind of airy. I need to be mature about this situation.
Continuation:
In high school, I became fast friends with Darlene, who I had gone to middle school with, but never knew. I dropped the whole box act with her, and was open, but because of stupid, unnecessary drama, I ended up abandoned. And hurt. The box was back. I didn’t see how being real was going to work. So I just wasn’t. I really felt trapped this time, and I didn’t see a way out. I needed to escape, but I didn’t see any outlets. That’s when I started cutting. I thought literalizing the holes in my life would help somehow, but it didn’t. I realized how stupid of an idea it was in the first place and stopped. I made new friends, but I was never really open with them either. I could see deep, strong relationships within that group of friends, but I wasn’t part of any of them. Even with my new best one, Rebecca. I still felt trapped and I still felt like I had no outlet. That’s when I started getting high. Smoking out seemed like progress. I was able to loosen my grip on the world and everything seemed okay, if only for a short period of time. It was an escape. It was happiness that I could hold in my hand. It wasn’t something I had to work for. It wasn’t something I had to earn. It was satisfaction that I knew I could get my hands on. When my real friends found out and confronted me about it, I stopped. Until last year. The opportunity fell into my lap, and needing an escape, needing an outlet besides the obvious one sitting on the other side of my room, I took it.
Junior year rolled around and I found myself completely enamored with Aaron. We were friends, but developed into more than friends. I let myself drop the box and was open with him. It was refreshing and I thought I was in love. Unfortunately, the relationship was short lived. I was heartbroken. Again, letting myself be open just left me hurt. Senior year was full of bad choices and I was going down a bad path. I became close with Kimi, but, like with Darlene, that friendship was short lived and I ended up hurt. Again. When the year was in it’s final stretch, the person who had meant the most to me over the past 4 years, Rebecca, finally realized that I was being fake with her too. She got tired of me not being open with her. She was finding out from other people, people who I wasn’t all that close with, things that I had done. About who I was becoming. She flat out told me that she couldn’t be friends with someone she didn’t know, and she didn’t know me. I was heartbroken, again. I apologized profusely, and I thought I fixed things, but it was never the same. We aren’t nearly as close as were we before, which wasn’t all that much anyway. She still has no clue who I am.
The story doesn’t get all that much different in college. It’s been documented on the daily. The only major change in this story is my way of thinking. In high school, I didn’t start blaming myself until my fallout with Rebecca. In college, that’s all I’ve done. I blame myself, even when things are obviously not my fault. I make them my fault. I’ve internalized this idea that I’m a fuckup and that’s all I’ll ever be. I think it started with feeling guilty that I could see myself not opening up. I wanted to change, I wanted to be open, I wanted the walls to be brought down, I wanted to think I was a decent person, but I was stuck. And in keeping those walls up, staying inside of my box, I drove the people that meant the most to me away. The negative thoughts became habit. I was/am stuck in this habit. And doing nothing about it has got me more and more stuck, inching my way into misery. Pushing people away stemmed from the idea that I was supposed to take care of myself. That stemmed from watching my family internalize their own problems and deal with them privately. It just got to this extreme, warped version where I thought I could take on the world by myself. Where I thought I had to take on the world by myself. I couldn’t. I didn’t have to. I can’t.
No comments:
Post a Comment