Anonymous
9th Dec 2007, 11:15 PM
Sometimes I think that if I could just sit here and write everything that I was thinking, that some how, magically, it would all make sense, if I could capture that one moment of my thought process, then go back and analyze it later, then I would see something new, something different, that would make me understand myself that little bit better. Naïve, I know, but it was something that I clung to. Even though time after time it never worked. Now rather I am left with these rambling pages of what I thought at a certain time of my life, mostly pages of contradictions. I have neither learned more about my thoughts or feelings, nor have I learned from the situations I was faced with.
Sometimes I look back through these snap shots of my life, and I can be transported right back to that minute of my life, no matter how long ago it was. I know exactly where I was, what was happening and its like the last 6 years just meant nothing. Other times I look at the same passage, the same words and I can hardly believe that it was me who wrote them. I can not picture my mind ever being that warped, or clear or whatever it was at the time. It is like there is only a shadow of that time in my life, that somewhere along the lines all the writing and effort that I put into myself were swapped with a person I have never even met.
I am stunted as a person. I do not know how it happened, or why, I can not understand why I can admit that I am stunted at yet be completely unable to tackle the problem at hand. I have not cared for anyone new in years. I do not know if it was losing my best friend, watching the destruction of the girl I love. Maybe it is all of these things, maybe I have seen so much shit surround relationships with other people that I have completely lost the ability to reach out to anyone new.
In saying that, not only have I been unable to let any one new into my life, to get close, to care for them and have them care for me, I have also been unable to let go of those that I do care for that I do love, no matter how lost they are. I can see the difference in who they are and who I once cared for, and yet it just doesn’t seem to matter, and I cling to the memory, and yet cannot let go of the person who isn’t even who I remember.
I wish I could look inside of myself and find the words to describe the battle that is going on inside. As much as I try and try and try, I can never get it just right, and when I think that I do get it just right, it changes. But it doesn’t feel like I change, it seems as though the words change, like they betray me, they morph, distort what they were supposed to mean, trapping me, making me sound once way, and feel another way. Rather then helping me get to the problem it is like it makes the confusion worse, it is like I am playing word games with myself. No wonder I cannot make sense to others, no wonder they don’t understand what I try to say, I sound like I should be locked away.
There are things in my life that I was never able to explain to anyone, much less myself. At the time, I had thought that if I reiterated the things that I thought my parents and counsellors wanted to hear, then I would be okay, people would stop looking at me as if I wanted to kill myself and that they would understand. It didn’t work. I did stop, but for no other reason then I didn’t want to hurt those around me any longer. I do not hurt myself because I do not like myself, not because I hurt on the inside, or because of any other reason that would cause me to want to be so introverted. I do it because I like it. I enjoy it, I love that control over myself, the sound, the blood, the scars. I realize that again, if people were to know, that they would judge, there would be conclusions drawn, conclusions that were false, and I know there are those who I am close to that would be devastated if they knew, and yet I still do it, I still enjoy it and if there is any reason I hate myself, it is for that reason, for what I do to them, and not to myself.
I love the quiet moments that I get to myself, to sit and to think and to imagine, it is a time I have to make up a different life for myself, where I can believe that I can do everything I want and that I would never have a guilt or anything forcing me to look back. It was in these quiet moments, with the music drowning out everything around me, I realized that I loved her. The more I thought of it, the more that this became true. The farther back I reached into my memory, the more I remember watching her in the halls, I remember the first notes of many, I remember the phone call, the nights we spent on the phone for hours, and the nights I got to watch her fall asleep holding her hand. Those days seem like a dream now, so many years have passed, and much has changed.
I know that our worlds are different, and I know that I am chancing everything that I worked so hard for. I know that I am chancing our friendship, I am chancing those memories and that I am chancing getting hurt and yet I still feel how I feel. I do not know how to show her that it is right. I don’t know how to show her that it is worth chancing everything for. She thinks that she will lose a friendship, and I don’t know how to tell her that it is and always has been a friendship based on my love for her. How do you tell someone who has never felt deserving of love, how do you explain that you love her more then you love yourself? How do you tell her of all those years…in denial of her?
I have spent the last two years with a boy. A boy who I really was in love with once, I thought that it was all over, and that I would be with him forever. How can feelings differ so much? How can I have lived for 6 years in love with a friend who I never saw, and never heard from and completely denied and know that that is where I belong? How can I live like that and yet have the man of my life for two years walk out the front door with out so much as a good bye and not shed a single tear? It is not that I stopped loving him. I never did. I tried hard to make it work. But everything that I looked for in a relationship was absent. I did not feel loved, or understood, I did not feel as though I was his equal or that he respected me at all. I may have been responsible for pushing him away. But he never chased me when I needed to be followed, nor did he hear me when I called.
I would like to read a book, or hear a song, or have someone tell me exactly what is going on. I would like to hear the perfect words and be able to undoubtly say that those words were everything that I am. The perfect summary of everything I have ever been. It feels as though there is something that I do not understand a big piece of something, something close to me, if not inside myself. Until I can understand what is missing, I feel like I will always be stunted. Always be trapped and always be torn. Torn so completely by who I was all those years ago, and who I am desperately trying to be now. That maybe it will show me what to do and where to go and that again, like magic, everything will be clear.
Sometimes I look back through these snap shots of my life, and I can be transported right back to that minute of my life, no matter how long ago it was. I know exactly where I was, what was happening and its like the last 6 years just meant nothing. Other times I look at the same passage, the same words and I can hardly believe that it was me who wrote them. I can not picture my mind ever being that warped, or clear or whatever it was at the time. It is like there is only a shadow of that time in my life, that somewhere along the lines all the writing and effort that I put into myself were swapped with a person I have never even met.
I am stunted as a person. I do not know how it happened, or why, I can not understand why I can admit that I am stunted at yet be completely unable to tackle the problem at hand. I have not cared for anyone new in years. I do not know if it was losing my best friend, watching the destruction of the girl I love. Maybe it is all of these things, maybe I have seen so much shit surround relationships with other people that I have completely lost the ability to reach out to anyone new.
In saying that, not only have I been unable to let any one new into my life, to get close, to care for them and have them care for me, I have also been unable to let go of those that I do care for that I do love, no matter how lost they are. I can see the difference in who they are and who I once cared for, and yet it just doesn’t seem to matter, and I cling to the memory, and yet cannot let go of the person who isn’t even who I remember.
I wish I could look inside of myself and find the words to describe the battle that is going on inside. As much as I try and try and try, I can never get it just right, and when I think that I do get it just right, it changes. But it doesn’t feel like I change, it seems as though the words change, like they betray me, they morph, distort what they were supposed to mean, trapping me, making me sound once way, and feel another way. Rather then helping me get to the problem it is like it makes the confusion worse, it is like I am playing word games with myself. No wonder I cannot make sense to others, no wonder they don’t understand what I try to say, I sound like I should be locked away.
There are things in my life that I was never able to explain to anyone, much less myself. At the time, I had thought that if I reiterated the things that I thought my parents and counsellors wanted to hear, then I would be okay, people would stop looking at me as if I wanted to kill myself and that they would understand. It didn’t work. I did stop, but for no other reason then I didn’t want to hurt those around me any longer. I do not hurt myself because I do not like myself, not because I hurt on the inside, or because of any other reason that would cause me to want to be so introverted. I do it because I like it. I enjoy it, I love that control over myself, the sound, the blood, the scars. I realize that again, if people were to know, that they would judge, there would be conclusions drawn, conclusions that were false, and I know there are those who I am close to that would be devastated if they knew, and yet I still do it, I still enjoy it and if there is any reason I hate myself, it is for that reason, for what I do to them, and not to myself.
I love the quiet moments that I get to myself, to sit and to think and to imagine, it is a time I have to make up a different life for myself, where I can believe that I can do everything I want and that I would never have a guilt or anything forcing me to look back. It was in these quiet moments, with the music drowning out everything around me, I realized that I loved her. The more I thought of it, the more that this became true. The farther back I reached into my memory, the more I remember watching her in the halls, I remember the first notes of many, I remember the phone call, the nights we spent on the phone for hours, and the nights I got to watch her fall asleep holding her hand. Those days seem like a dream now, so many years have passed, and much has changed.
I know that our worlds are different, and I know that I am chancing everything that I worked so hard for. I know that I am chancing our friendship, I am chancing those memories and that I am chancing getting hurt and yet I still feel how I feel. I do not know how to show her that it is right. I don’t know how to show her that it is worth chancing everything for. She thinks that she will lose a friendship, and I don’t know how to tell her that it is and always has been a friendship based on my love for her. How do you tell someone who has never felt deserving of love, how do you explain that you love her more then you love yourself? How do you tell her of all those years…in denial of her?
I have spent the last two years with a boy. A boy who I really was in love with once, I thought that it was all over, and that I would be with him forever. How can feelings differ so much? How can I have lived for 6 years in love with a friend who I never saw, and never heard from and completely denied and know that that is where I belong? How can I live like that and yet have the man of my life for two years walk out the front door with out so much as a good bye and not shed a single tear? It is not that I stopped loving him. I never did. I tried hard to make it work. But everything that I looked for in a relationship was absent. I did not feel loved, or understood, I did not feel as though I was his equal or that he respected me at all. I may have been responsible for pushing him away. But he never chased me when I needed to be followed, nor did he hear me when I called.
I would like to read a book, or hear a song, or have someone tell me exactly what is going on. I would like to hear the perfect words and be able to undoubtly say that those words were everything that I am. The perfect summary of everything I have ever been. It feels as though there is something that I do not understand a big piece of something, something close to me, if not inside myself. Until I can understand what is missing, I feel like I will always be stunted. Always be trapped and always be torn. Torn so completely by who I was all those years ago, and who I am desperately trying to be now. That maybe it will show me what to do and where to go and that again, like magic, everything will be clear.