(no subject)
I know I said I wouldn't dwell on the past, but since we've been getting ready for the yard sale tomorrow I've had to sort through all of my "memory" boxes, in which I keep artwork and awards and programs for plays I've been in and pictures and whatnot. It's kind of forced me to really reflect on the past six years of my life, since I started high school. And since I cleared out this journal, I haven't been able to help but think about the kind of person I was.
It's weird, looking back at the things I thought and said when I was...younger. I always thought of myself as mature and intelligent and "gifted," but the fact is that I was a very misguided little girl with anxiety issues and extremely low self-esteem, who had no clue how to deal with my issues. And because of that, I made a lot of bad choices. I mean, really shitty and lame choices. I hurt myself and I hurt others for the sake of being liked and accepted, when all I really wanted was to feel validated as a person and as an actor, and have what I considered a "normal teenage life." It just baffles me now to think that I actually lived the way I did, just miserable all the time.
When I was friends with Tiffani, I just remember being sick and worried almost constantly. And I fucked up because I should have had the insight to come out and say "I have a problem. I can't live normally like this. I need help." Instead, I freaked out and internalized my fear and covered it up with lies. I lied to my best friends on a regular basis, made up excuses, avoided their calls, avoided them. Of course, they too had problems that were beyond their control, which I was fully aware of. Perhaps if I had cried out for help as much as they did we could have supported each other, but all I wanted was to NOT have problems and to NOT have to deal with anyone else's problems. I may have used being popular as an excuse, but I was really just terrified of what I was having to deal with. Looking back, I realize that I must have thought distancing myself from Tiffani and Amy would make my anxiety go away, as if they and their needs were the direct root of my illness. Well, considering that I still have anxiety attacks without warning and want to throw up every time I leave the house, I guess I was wrong.
I'm glad that Amy and I can talk again, though I know we'll never be half as close as we were. That's okay with me; she has her life, which I'm glad to hear is pretty good now, and I have mine, which is getting better. It's doubtful that Tiffani and I will ever reconnect, though. I think we hurt each other way too much. That's just a mistake I had to learn from...
It's weird, looking back at the things I thought and said when I was...younger. I always thought of myself as mature and intelligent and "gifted," but the fact is that I was a very misguided little girl with anxiety issues and extremely low self-esteem, who had no clue how to deal with my issues. And because of that, I made a lot of bad choices. I mean, really shitty and lame choices. I hurt myself and I hurt others for the sake of being liked and accepted, when all I really wanted was to feel validated as a person and as an actor, and have what I considered a "normal teenage life." It just baffles me now to think that I actually lived the way I did, just miserable all the time.
When I was friends with Tiffani, I just remember being sick and worried almost constantly. And I fucked up because I should have had the insight to come out and say "I have a problem. I can't live normally like this. I need help." Instead, I freaked out and internalized my fear and covered it up with lies. I lied to my best friends on a regular basis, made up excuses, avoided their calls, avoided them. Of course, they too had problems that were beyond their control, which I was fully aware of. Perhaps if I had cried out for help as much as they did we could have supported each other, but all I wanted was to NOT have problems and to NOT have to deal with anyone else's problems. I may have used being popular as an excuse, but I was really just terrified of what I was having to deal with. Looking back, I realize that I must have thought distancing myself from Tiffani and Amy would make my anxiety go away, as if they and their needs were the direct root of my illness. Well, considering that I still have anxiety attacks without warning and want to throw up every time I leave the house, I guess I was wrong.
I'm glad that Amy and I can talk again, though I know we'll never be half as close as we were. That's okay with me; she has her life, which I'm glad to hear is pretty good now, and I have mine, which is getting better. It's doubtful that Tiffani and I will ever reconnect, though. I think we hurt each other way too much. That's just a mistake I had to learn from...