This Has Gotta Be a Good Life
It's been a while since I've typed in here. And today of all days is the day that I decide to add an entry--and this entry, I will make public.
Why haven't I written in a while? Well, when you're happy or sad like a fool, you let the feeling take you over. And it's true.
Life has really taken over.
I mean, I know I say over and over how I feel like I haven't changed that much over the years since...you know. But, here in this journal is proof that I have progressed over the years. It's the fact that I haven't written in here--shows my greater involvement in the world, as useless as this existence could be.
I went shopping a few days ago...facing my monsters head on? Possibly?
Before I left for Europe when I was still a wreck, I ran into my friends? They stood there, treated me like shit. Great friends, huh? I mean, it's just oh-so-much fun to kick someone while they're down. Might as well beat a dead horse when you have the opportunity, right?
NO. wrong.
So I went to Europe. I grew. I learned. I worked to the best of my abilities to move on, to be a better/bigger person.
And then here we have the same situation happen again. Facing my monsters, head on? How exactly did I imagine this moment to occur? Run into my "friends" and be able to be more together? Well, success! It's accomplished. I portrayed myself as I had hoped I could when I replayed the situation over and over in my head while I was in Europe. So why do I feel so down?
Proof that I have changed: I am hurt.
Yes, I was able to come out the person I wanted, but doesn't mean I wouldn't be affected by the encounter. Just because I'm a strong independent woman does not mean I am not human. If you prick me, I do bleed? If you tickle me, I do laugh? If you poison me, I will die? I am hurt beyond measures, regardless how hard I try to hide it.
What gives you the right to treat me less than human? Before, when you kicked me while I was down, I may have cowered down, but now, I will not accept it. I now know that I do not deserve it. It bothers me so much how my "friends" could treat me so. Was I not there for you when you were down? Did I not give you the comfort and friendship you yearned for and so desperately needed when you, too, were in the darkest moments of your life? I was there.
This is why I want to be a doctor, I want to be the example that there is still hope in the world for kindness, cause right now, I do not see it.
What I don't understand is why am I such a horrid person? What do I have to do to prove myself? To everyone: friends, family, the world? Over and over I try to put myself in my friends' shoes so that I may understand their actions and decisions: why have you turned your back on me? What was the right decision? I don't understand. Was I supposed to stay in a situation where I was constantly abused? Why is abuse so acceptable? Why do YOU think it's acceptable and that for me to rebel against it is the "wrong?" I don't understand. I couldn't take it. I couldn't take it--and I couldn't fathom a whole life of it. And it hurts that I had to go out alone. I chose the path where there was no one; the path where I would be vulnerable and alone without any hope for a better future--but just somewhere in my gut, I knew it must be the right choice. Yes, I know it's true that the right path is not always the easiest one, but I just feel that it is so wrong that everyone has turned their backs on me.
Am I really the antagonist in this story? Possibly that is why I can't understand--blinded by my own evil? And every action I did was evil?
It hurts. That's all. This is all a ramble--but bottom line, I'm hurt. It hurts when my parents think I'm such a bad person--when they constantly think I spend every night drinking and partying when I'm actually usually the designated driver..and last time I partied was weeks ago. It hurts that everyday, they always say "were you sober?" Why yes. I was FUCKIN sober. I am ALWAYS sober. It hurts when, truly, all I want to do is help in the world. To give the hopeless hope. To give the pushed-down a hand to hold. That's what we're here for, isnt' it? The purpose of life is to help others?
It hurts when my sisters say...hurtful things--I won't even repeat.
It hurts when my "friends" treat me less than human.
It hurts that I'm all alone in this world and really the only one I can count on is buddy. That's what so great about dogs. They'll follow you to the end. All they ever want to do is please their master. Even if I am truly evil, the only thing dogs will ever see is the good in me [if it exists].
I have no home. Home is a place where you have lots of friends and family. Home is a place where you feel safe. I have no home.
I had a dream last night that I was raped in a shower. Where the man hit me. Where he pushed me. Where he forced himself upon me as a symbol of power. Deja vu? I'm still so affected and I wish there was someone that could put aside whatever wrong I did [I don't even know] and lend me a shoulder to cry on.
I am so hurt.
Why haven't I written in a while? Well, when you're happy or sad like a fool, you let the feeling take you over. And it's true.
Life has really taken over.
I mean, I know I say over and over how I feel like I haven't changed that much over the years since...you know. But, here in this journal is proof that I have progressed over the years. It's the fact that I haven't written in here--shows my greater involvement in the world, as useless as this existence could be.
I went shopping a few days ago...facing my monsters head on? Possibly?
Before I left for Europe when I was still a wreck, I ran into my friends? They stood there, treated me like shit. Great friends, huh? I mean, it's just oh-so-much fun to kick someone while they're down. Might as well beat a dead horse when you have the opportunity, right?
NO. wrong.
So I went to Europe. I grew. I learned. I worked to the best of my abilities to move on, to be a better/bigger person.
And then here we have the same situation happen again. Facing my monsters, head on? How exactly did I imagine this moment to occur? Run into my "friends" and be able to be more together? Well, success! It's accomplished. I portrayed myself as I had hoped I could when I replayed the situation over and over in my head while I was in Europe. So why do I feel so down?
Proof that I have changed: I am hurt.
Yes, I was able to come out the person I wanted, but doesn't mean I wouldn't be affected by the encounter. Just because I'm a strong independent woman does not mean I am not human. If you prick me, I do bleed? If you tickle me, I do laugh? If you poison me, I will die? I am hurt beyond measures, regardless how hard I try to hide it.
What gives you the right to treat me less than human? Before, when you kicked me while I was down, I may have cowered down, but now, I will not accept it. I now know that I do not deserve it. It bothers me so much how my "friends" could treat me so. Was I not there for you when you were down? Did I not give you the comfort and friendship you yearned for and so desperately needed when you, too, were in the darkest moments of your life? I was there.
This is why I want to be a doctor, I want to be the example that there is still hope in the world for kindness, cause right now, I do not see it.
What I don't understand is why am I such a horrid person? What do I have to do to prove myself? To everyone: friends, family, the world? Over and over I try to put myself in my friends' shoes so that I may understand their actions and decisions: why have you turned your back on me? What was the right decision? I don't understand. Was I supposed to stay in a situation where I was constantly abused? Why is abuse so acceptable? Why do YOU think it's acceptable and that for me to rebel against it is the "wrong?" I don't understand. I couldn't take it. I couldn't take it--and I couldn't fathom a whole life of it. And it hurts that I had to go out alone. I chose the path where there was no one; the path where I would be vulnerable and alone without any hope for a better future--but just somewhere in my gut, I knew it must be the right choice. Yes, I know it's true that the right path is not always the easiest one, but I just feel that it is so wrong that everyone has turned their backs on me.
Am I really the antagonist in this story? Possibly that is why I can't understand--blinded by my own evil? And every action I did was evil?
It hurts. That's all. This is all a ramble--but bottom line, I'm hurt. It hurts when my parents think I'm such a bad person--when they constantly think I spend every night drinking and partying when I'm actually usually the designated driver..and last time I partied was weeks ago. It hurts that everyday, they always say "were you sober?" Why yes. I was FUCKIN sober. I am ALWAYS sober. It hurts when, truly, all I want to do is help in the world. To give the hopeless hope. To give the pushed-down a hand to hold. That's what we're here for, isnt' it? The purpose of life is to help others?
It hurts when my sisters say...hurtful things--I won't even repeat.
It hurts when my "friends" treat me less than human.
It hurts that I'm all alone in this world and really the only one I can count on is buddy. That's what so great about dogs. They'll follow you to the end. All they ever want to do is please their master. Even if I am truly evil, the only thing dogs will ever see is the good in me [if it exists].
I have no home. Home is a place where you have lots of friends and family. Home is a place where you feel safe. I have no home.
I had a dream last night that I was raped in a shower. Where the man hit me. Where he pushed me. Where he forced himself upon me as a symbol of power. Deja vu? I'm still so affected and I wish there was someone that could put aside whatever wrong I did [I don't even know] and lend me a shoulder to cry on.
I am so hurt.