(no subject)
It occurred to me yesterday just how drastically I have changed in the past year or two. I've essentially lost, or relinquished, all the things that made me me. I'm hardly even the same girl anymore, and that's actually kind of sad. I guess turning into pensive, depressed and morbid Sarah was step 1, but that kind of suits me well, at least when referring to the personality trait and not the disease itself. I've certainly taken the self-deprication thing to a new level, considering sophomore year I was so much happier and more social on the whole, annoyingly so in fact, in retrospect. The whole introvert thing I can deal with; that is actually one of few things that feels like me, because I've always been the quiet observer. But I've lost that "good" Sarah that went with my quietude. I drink and smoke--two activities I was never opposed to, but never expected to welcome so alarmingly quickly. My transition from disdain for the idea of substances in my body to engaging in the self-destruction that is every college weekend is untraceable. What once seemed so inherently wrong, stupid, immature to me now seems so natural it's frightening. And the thing is, I never judged--I saw these things as simply not for me. Some of that was probably mere innocence that I, being so inexperienced in the real world, had yet to outgrow, but I think some of it was really just me. I didn't come to college and find myself exposed to anything unexpected. I took it all in, and yet retained my beliefs. I made normal friends who drank and smoked, and still I clung to myself, chose to remember who I was. At the time, drinking "wasn't me," and so I didn't. But something happened the first time I smoked--I relinquished that part of me with hardly a moment of inhibition. Quite frankly, I think I just got tired of being so good. My whole life I've been good, quiet, smart, hardworking Sarah. After so many years of being that girl, I hated it. I recognized this, but for a long time I still maintained some semblance of a self, of that girl who was so....so good. Even after I'd begun to vascillate back and forth through the lens of depression, put my body through hell, and ultimately quit the one thing around which my entire life revolved (I don't know if quitting gymnastics was my way of committing identity suicide or of trying to salvage what little remains of a life I had outside of it), I cannot honestly say that I had given up everything, because still I did not drink. I welcomed a hell of a lot of forms of of self-inflicted pain, but I did not turn to drugs or alcohol. And I'm not trying to say that I drink or smoke for the same reasons as I would have then, but I just cannot get over how quickly I've changed. I didn't even used to swear. I used to be able to shock people when I said fuck because I used it so sparingly, logically the most effective way to say a word. I know it's unrealistic, but I slightly miss my old self. I liked when it all made sense, when the line between right and wrong seemed so conspicuous. I guess I liked being good because it gave me a sense of superiority over others too; I would not go so far as to say I thought less of those who "did bad things," but I was comfortable and confident in my decisions. I was funny and smart and had friends from every group--not just a bunch of goody goodies who seemed to me to be quite boring. I fit myself but not my stereotype...I think that's what I'm getting at. Maybe that's why I finally burst out of it. Being good was far to mundane, far too uneventful, far too dull. And when you finally attain apathy, it's superfluous.