Born To Be Down.
What good is confidence? (or rather, what is good confidence?)
Reading back through my old entries, I find that (besides the obvious exponential amount of self absorption) I've changed in a myriad of ways. In all truth, I have drank away the majority of anything holding substance over the past 3 years- or, even more admirable, during dry spells, have self-medicated in other ways, including codependency that, I've come to reluctantly admit, does stem from my para-alcoholism, seeded in early childhood. I have always been ashamed to admit that any of this actually happened to me, and, more importantly, that I really needed help to cope with it via outside entities. I knew this, I just would rather it not be true. The boundary line between self pity and actualization has always been muddled in my own eyes, causing some sort of major imbroglio that upsets me to no end. In other word, when it comes to myself, I often set out to grasp some sense of empathy (and yes, I must view myself as an outside entity for much of this to occur) but frequently find, instead, that I've crossed the line and become sympathetic, which, in this case, I find to be terribly counter-productive (for more reasons than merely the obvious- being that I am comprised of more than one being, in a sense, through my favorite form of escapism- pesky compartmentalization). I have become PRECISELY what I had despised with such vindication, and thus tried so hard to avoid being-my parents.
After growing up, living trapped between the couch cushions of our family's infamous lazy boy sofa, I find it hard to stand on my own without either submitting back to this silent resignation point that I am so devoted to, or, for a breath of fresh air, crushing another that I propose to take my place and thus propel me forward. My thinking is never consistent, either washed with variant hues of gray, or solely absolute in nature. I have failed to reflect, as was so pertinent to gaining a piece of mind in my early youth and teenage years (I am wildly grateful for this), which CLEARLY and indubitably serves as just another reminder as to how I have hidden from anything of worth, becoming weak willed and generally disgusting in nature. My counselor tells me that it is not self-pity, but more self-preservation. This I am able to (hesitantly, of course) accept as veracious and substantial. I mean, really, that is WHY I do it, as a means to selfishly and shamefully conceal who I really am- for a multitude of reasons. The main being that I am scared to let anyone in, in fear that they will scathe my bleeding, bruised, excuse for a heart and, furthermore, know all these dirty, guilt-inducing experiences I have had and, in turn, shun me for them- or not know how to deal with them (because I obviously do not). I deeply fear rejection by the masses, of who I really am and that those who know this person will not be able to accept me (or worse, in fact, that they can and I cannot). How can you be expected to deal with someone else's fucked up shit? Let alone, your own... Ironically, I seek out people and relationships that fulfill this act, (abuse, really) subconsciously, (partially) in order to cast myself back into a place I feel safe- chaotic, crisis-oriented living.
Furthermore, I feel real shitty for the way I have treated people, especially males in the recent passing years. The fact that, mostly, it went both ways, is no real consolation. After all, my parents did also teach me a mass of merit-able lessons, including: "Two wrongs don't make a right" (which, ironically, I joke and say, "except my parents"). I also feel appalled for the feelings I have towards them (including, but not limited to): anger, resentment, and sometimes pure hate. It is all part of being an ACoA, I am told. Not sure that makes it better, or excusable, just digestible, I suppose.
With that said, I AM trying my damned-ness to move forward, seeking out healthful, cohesive (because without such that's just be too much for me to handle) help from others who understand and know how to "fix" me (when really, I just mean support). I am not broken, only worn. This, I do believe. I do not want to perpetuate the cycle my past has prescribed. I WILL evolve, grow and produce fantastic yields, I just need to allow myself to feel and for it to be okay to do such (learn how, really). I have successfully quit drinking, smoking, using drugs and engaging in sex. I guess you could say I've earned Sharpie-written "x"s on the backs of my hands. Yee-haw. Also, I am looking forward to the supposed clarity I am now entitled to. In addition, I need to truly love who I am beyond all else, and not embellish such a harsh dichotomy when it comes to the way others view me, and who I really am. Some DO see what I cannot admit to possessing, and are justified in doing such. I need to forgive myself for a multitude of reasons and stop seeking out relationships that will only negate my progress.
Cont.:
Ironically, I just talked to my sister for a couple of hours. Given, a peroration was stumbled upon, I think-but I never truly get to the point that I would like to be at, which is MUTUAL understanding. In all truth, I give more than I get (and this has bled over into my personal life, as well, in certain relationships.) Anyways, this drawn out disquisition often happens when I talk with any of my family members. We rehash everything that we were then, and how that has lead us to be where we are now. They are all still in denial, in varying degrees. She, specifically, says that she had a wonderful childhood because her life now is very much the opposite. I get that; allowing the stark contrast to convey any valuation you will it to possess. However, I feel an air of adroit evasion looms whilst exercising such a comparison, and that, quite possible, facile solutions were posed for more complex problems. She said she is very selfish, I am altruistic. I agree with this assessment, generally speaking. She also said she felt bad for dominating the entirety of our conversation... this I did not mind, because when it comes to the overt dissection of myself, no thank you. I did give a little though, because I am working diligently on assertion (in saying what I mean to, not what I think would cause the least uproar). Also, I have received harsh criticism in not doing such, so that acts a catalyst to counteract my behavior, and I'll take it for what it is worth.
Keep it copacetic? Learn to accept it, know you're so pathetic. This is just no good. I find much humor in the fact that I am terribly naive and idealistic, despite possessing a persistent pessimism that endures (latent with varying degrees of cynicism, of course).
Heh, in conclusion (because this is merely an unavailing musing): I am utterly lost (picking flowers in the woods?).
I'm not sure if I'd like to be found.
Reading back through my old entries, I find that (besides the obvious exponential amount of self absorption) I've changed in a myriad of ways. In all truth, I have drank away the majority of anything holding substance over the past 3 years- or, even more admirable, during dry spells, have self-medicated in other ways, including codependency that, I've come to reluctantly admit, does stem from my para-alcoholism, seeded in early childhood. I have always been ashamed to admit that any of this actually happened to me, and, more importantly, that I really needed help to cope with it via outside entities. I knew this, I just would rather it not be true. The boundary line between self pity and actualization has always been muddled in my own eyes, causing some sort of major imbroglio that upsets me to no end. In other word, when it comes to myself, I often set out to grasp some sense of empathy (and yes, I must view myself as an outside entity for much of this to occur) but frequently find, instead, that I've crossed the line and become sympathetic, which, in this case, I find to be terribly counter-productive (for more reasons than merely the obvious- being that I am comprised of more than one being, in a sense, through my favorite form of escapism- pesky compartmentalization). I have become PRECISELY what I had despised with such vindication, and thus tried so hard to avoid being-my parents.
After growing up, living trapped between the couch cushions of our family's infamous lazy boy sofa, I find it hard to stand on my own without either submitting back to this silent resignation point that I am so devoted to, or, for a breath of fresh air, crushing another that I propose to take my place and thus propel me forward. My thinking is never consistent, either washed with variant hues of gray, or solely absolute in nature. I have failed to reflect, as was so pertinent to gaining a piece of mind in my early youth and teenage years (I am wildly grateful for this), which CLEARLY and indubitably serves as just another reminder as to how I have hidden from anything of worth, becoming weak willed and generally disgusting in nature. My counselor tells me that it is not self-pity, but more self-preservation. This I am able to (hesitantly, of course) accept as veracious and substantial. I mean, really, that is WHY I do it, as a means to selfishly and shamefully conceal who I really am- for a multitude of reasons. The main being that I am scared to let anyone in, in fear that they will scathe my bleeding, bruised, excuse for a heart and, furthermore, know all these dirty, guilt-inducing experiences I have had and, in turn, shun me for them- or not know how to deal with them (because I obviously do not). I deeply fear rejection by the masses, of who I really am and that those who know this person will not be able to accept me (or worse, in fact, that they can and I cannot). How can you be expected to deal with someone else's fucked up shit? Let alone, your own... Ironically, I seek out people and relationships that fulfill this act, (abuse, really) subconsciously, (partially) in order to cast myself back into a place I feel safe- chaotic, crisis-oriented living.
Furthermore, I feel real shitty for the way I have treated people, especially males in the recent passing years. The fact that, mostly, it went both ways, is no real consolation. After all, my parents did also teach me a mass of merit-able lessons, including: "Two wrongs don't make a right" (which, ironically, I joke and say, "except my parents"). I also feel appalled for the feelings I have towards them (including, but not limited to): anger, resentment, and sometimes pure hate. It is all part of being an ACoA, I am told. Not sure that makes it better, or excusable, just digestible, I suppose.
With that said, I AM trying my damned-ness to move forward, seeking out healthful, cohesive (because without such that's just be too much for me to handle) help from others who understand and know how to "fix" me (when really, I just mean support). I am not broken, only worn. This, I do believe. I do not want to perpetuate the cycle my past has prescribed. I WILL evolve, grow and produce fantastic yields, I just need to allow myself to feel and for it to be okay to do such (learn how, really). I have successfully quit drinking, smoking, using drugs and engaging in sex. I guess you could say I've earned Sharpie-written "x"s on the backs of my hands. Yee-haw. Also, I am looking forward to the supposed clarity I am now entitled to. In addition, I need to truly love who I am beyond all else, and not embellish such a harsh dichotomy when it comes to the way others view me, and who I really am. Some DO see what I cannot admit to possessing, and are justified in doing such. I need to forgive myself for a multitude of reasons and stop seeking out relationships that will only negate my progress.
Cont.:
Ironically, I just talked to my sister for a couple of hours. Given, a peroration was stumbled upon, I think-but I never truly get to the point that I would like to be at, which is MUTUAL understanding. In all truth, I give more than I get (and this has bled over into my personal life, as well, in certain relationships.) Anyways, this drawn out disquisition often happens when I talk with any of my family members. We rehash everything that we were then, and how that has lead us to be where we are now. They are all still in denial, in varying degrees. She, specifically, says that she had a wonderful childhood because her life now is very much the opposite. I get that; allowing the stark contrast to convey any valuation you will it to possess. However, I feel an air of adroit evasion looms whilst exercising such a comparison, and that, quite possible, facile solutions were posed for more complex problems. She said she is very selfish, I am altruistic. I agree with this assessment, generally speaking. She also said she felt bad for dominating the entirety of our conversation... this I did not mind, because when it comes to the overt dissection of myself, no thank you. I did give a little though, because I am working diligently on assertion (in saying what I mean to, not what I think would cause the least uproar). Also, I have received harsh criticism in not doing such, so that acts a catalyst to counteract my behavior, and I'll take it for what it is worth.
Keep it copacetic? Learn to accept it, know you're so pathetic. This is just no good. I find much humor in the fact that I am terribly naive and idealistic, despite possessing a persistent pessimism that endures (latent with varying degrees of cynicism, of course).
Heh, in conclusion (because this is merely an unavailing musing): I am utterly lost (picking flowers in the woods?).
I'm not sure if I'd like to be found.