Summer in all its Glory
So I haven't really written in here for a while. This journal has gotten me in a lot of trouble, when people read it and take things the wrong way, or I shouldn't have written it at all.
Anyways.
So today I was going through my room, and cleaning out my cedar chest and reorganizing it so that I can fit the last two years of college in there. When it hit me. I'm crazy, as a by-product of my parents intense expectations. I dug through piles of certificates for one academic achievement or another, ribbons, and report cards. I am on an amazingly high pedastal. It has become a precarious balancing act, in which I am barely gripping that damn pedastal. All for what? My parents approval? And then I realized that I have DURASTICALLY changed from high school. I mean I knew I had changed, but I have changed way more than I realized.
I use to be self assured, goal oriented, and gutsy as all hell. Now I find that I have no self esteem or very litte, no real set direction, and I tend to swallow what I truly want to say in fear that people may not like it. HELL, I never was like that. I use to speak my mind and was never afraid of what people thought of it. Now for what ever god damn reason it seems that it is extremely important to me that people think of me in a positive light. And I don't have the foggiest idea where this Erica came from, and the old Erica went. I can see the change, but I can't point to what caused it and I have no clue as to how to reverse it. I find that I myself am the one who gets stepped on more often than not, and that I end up being hurt. Where did my baracaded heart go? When and why the hell did I learn to care? I was perfectly happy before. Now, I just seem to seap in the misery pool, soaking it all up.
I use to ride, draw, and sing. I don't do any of those. And I was thinking about it, I'm just as busy as I was in high school, but now I seem to run into a dark ally more often than not. My soul has no exercise. I don't even have time to read. My room is stuffed with tons of old art projects. Where did she go? Where is my creative side? I'm missing something, and I don't know what it is. I cry more now than I ever have and I hate it. The old me never cried, and if I did I certainly did not let anyone know. Now, the whole freakin' world knows it. Where is she? The former me?
There is one thing that I did learn though. I have amazing friends and although I knew they were great, I did not realize how lucky I was until a talk tonight with Amy. She had said something along the lines that she didn't know why we didn't stay friends throughout high school, and that all the people she was close friends with in high school had screwed her over in one way or another, and she was only close friends with people that she had been just friends with in h.s. I am still really close to all of the people that I was in high school. I didn't realize that this was a weird thing until that point. It honestly shocked me. I have always had strong friendships and I honestly can not remember a time that I haven't had a rather large group of close friends. And that's when I realized it. Popularity really isn't about who gets invited to the parties, or if your dating the hotest guy in school, it's about your friendships. If you have had friends all of your life, you are popular.
I guess that that cedar chest is not only there to hold all of the memories that I could not possibly do justice to, but to remind me that no matter what I am never alone. I seem to be able to make friends no matter where I go. I was terrified going to college away from all of my friends, but at that time I was still high school Erica. I was determined that I was going to start this step of my journey on my own path, without the help of my friends. Now of course I know better. My friends were always there, just not present. I have a huge box of letters from that first year, assuring me, encouraging me, and congradulating me on going and getting through my first year of college. I can pin point exactly when I was slipping off of the road by the flood of encouraging letters and cards. Although I did make my own path and establish myself at Winona, I did it by having that amazing safety net. Friends are like angel wings, that are there to help you to your feet when you need it most, and when you may not even realize it.
This is a testamony to those friends. We are stout and loyal. And even though I look at our different paths, I can see in the background of each of those landscapes the siloetts of the group of us friends. No, we may not go to the same school and we all have extremely different ideas of what we want out of life, but none of us could be where we are without the others.
I made a plethera of friends at Winona, which I guess shouldn't surprise me, but it does. Each year it just seems to mulitply, and yet even now I can detect the same qualities in these friends that I are in my high school friends. Maybe I'm not so different than that high school Erica after all. She's just sleeping until I need her, but essentially is that silloette in my life as well. A ghost of what I was, to be there when I need her.
I need her. So, former self. Wherever you may be, could you possibly solidify yourself? I'm lost, confused, and really need some self perspective. I need some answers that only you can seem to answer, and I need some support that only you can seem to give. After all, let's admitt it, as much as you listen to others when they talk, you will only answer to yourself in the end. I don't know you anymore, I don't reconize your face, we don't talk anymore, and we keep running from the pain. It needs to stop.
"And she takes another step
Slowly she opens the door
Check that he is sleeping
Pick up all the broken glass
And furniture on the floor
Been up half the night screaming
Now it is time to get away
Pack up the kids in the car
Another bruise to try and hide
Another alliby to write
Another ditch in the road
You keep moving
Another stop sign
You keep moving on
And the years go by so fast
Wonder how I ever made it through
There are children to think of
Baby's asleep in the backseat
Wonder how they'll ever make it through this living nightmare
But the mind is an amazing thing
Full of candy dreams and new toys, and another cheap hotel
Two beds and a coffee machine
But there are groceries to buy
And she knows she'll have to go home
Another ditch in the road
You keep moving
Another stop sign
You keep moving on
And the years go by so fast
Wonder how I ever made it through
Another bruise to try and hide
Another alliby to write
Another lonely highway in the black of night
There's hope in the darkness
And you know you're gonna make it
Another ditch in the road
You keep moving
Another stop sign
You keep moving on
And the years go by so fast
Solid fortress built to last
Wonder how I ever made it."
-"Two beds and a Coffee Machine"
Savage Garden
Anyways.
So today I was going through my room, and cleaning out my cedar chest and reorganizing it so that I can fit the last two years of college in there. When it hit me. I'm crazy, as a by-product of my parents intense expectations. I dug through piles of certificates for one academic achievement or another, ribbons, and report cards. I am on an amazingly high pedastal. It has become a precarious balancing act, in which I am barely gripping that damn pedastal. All for what? My parents approval? And then I realized that I have DURASTICALLY changed from high school. I mean I knew I had changed, but I have changed way more than I realized.
I use to be self assured, goal oriented, and gutsy as all hell. Now I find that I have no self esteem or very litte, no real set direction, and I tend to swallow what I truly want to say in fear that people may not like it. HELL, I never was like that. I use to speak my mind and was never afraid of what people thought of it. Now for what ever god damn reason it seems that it is extremely important to me that people think of me in a positive light. And I don't have the foggiest idea where this Erica came from, and the old Erica went. I can see the change, but I can't point to what caused it and I have no clue as to how to reverse it. I find that I myself am the one who gets stepped on more often than not, and that I end up being hurt. Where did my baracaded heart go? When and why the hell did I learn to care? I was perfectly happy before. Now, I just seem to seap in the misery pool, soaking it all up.
I use to ride, draw, and sing. I don't do any of those. And I was thinking about it, I'm just as busy as I was in high school, but now I seem to run into a dark ally more often than not. My soul has no exercise. I don't even have time to read. My room is stuffed with tons of old art projects. Where did she go? Where is my creative side? I'm missing something, and I don't know what it is. I cry more now than I ever have and I hate it. The old me never cried, and if I did I certainly did not let anyone know. Now, the whole freakin' world knows it. Where is she? The former me?
There is one thing that I did learn though. I have amazing friends and although I knew they were great, I did not realize how lucky I was until a talk tonight with Amy. She had said something along the lines that she didn't know why we didn't stay friends throughout high school, and that all the people she was close friends with in high school had screwed her over in one way or another, and she was only close friends with people that she had been just friends with in h.s. I am still really close to all of the people that I was in high school. I didn't realize that this was a weird thing until that point. It honestly shocked me. I have always had strong friendships and I honestly can not remember a time that I haven't had a rather large group of close friends. And that's when I realized it. Popularity really isn't about who gets invited to the parties, or if your dating the hotest guy in school, it's about your friendships. If you have had friends all of your life, you are popular.
I guess that that cedar chest is not only there to hold all of the memories that I could not possibly do justice to, but to remind me that no matter what I am never alone. I seem to be able to make friends no matter where I go. I was terrified going to college away from all of my friends, but at that time I was still high school Erica. I was determined that I was going to start this step of my journey on my own path, without the help of my friends. Now of course I know better. My friends were always there, just not present. I have a huge box of letters from that first year, assuring me, encouraging me, and congradulating me on going and getting through my first year of college. I can pin point exactly when I was slipping off of the road by the flood of encouraging letters and cards. Although I did make my own path and establish myself at Winona, I did it by having that amazing safety net. Friends are like angel wings, that are there to help you to your feet when you need it most, and when you may not even realize it.
This is a testamony to those friends. We are stout and loyal. And even though I look at our different paths, I can see in the background of each of those landscapes the siloetts of the group of us friends. No, we may not go to the same school and we all have extremely different ideas of what we want out of life, but none of us could be where we are without the others.
I made a plethera of friends at Winona, which I guess shouldn't surprise me, but it does. Each year it just seems to mulitply, and yet even now I can detect the same qualities in these friends that I are in my high school friends. Maybe I'm not so different than that high school Erica after all. She's just sleeping until I need her, but essentially is that silloette in my life as well. A ghost of what I was, to be there when I need her.
I need her. So, former self. Wherever you may be, could you possibly solidify yourself? I'm lost, confused, and really need some self perspective. I need some answers that only you can seem to answer, and I need some support that only you can seem to give. After all, let's admitt it, as much as you listen to others when they talk, you will only answer to yourself in the end. I don't know you anymore, I don't reconize your face, we don't talk anymore, and we keep running from the pain. It needs to stop.
"And she takes another step
Slowly she opens the door
Check that he is sleeping
Pick up all the broken glass
And furniture on the floor
Been up half the night screaming
Now it is time to get away
Pack up the kids in the car
Another bruise to try and hide
Another alliby to write
Another ditch in the road
You keep moving
Another stop sign
You keep moving on
And the years go by so fast
Wonder how I ever made it through
There are children to think of
Baby's asleep in the backseat
Wonder how they'll ever make it through this living nightmare
But the mind is an amazing thing
Full of candy dreams and new toys, and another cheap hotel
Two beds and a coffee machine
But there are groceries to buy
And she knows she'll have to go home
Another ditch in the road
You keep moving
Another stop sign
You keep moving on
And the years go by so fast
Wonder how I ever made it through
Another bruise to try and hide
Another alliby to write
Another lonely highway in the black of night
There's hope in the darkness
And you know you're gonna make it
Another ditch in the road
You keep moving
Another stop sign
You keep moving on
And the years go by so fast
Solid fortress built to last
Wonder how I ever made it."
-"Two beds and a Coffee Machine"
Savage Garden