unluck
I'm a different person, now.
social anxiety; major depressive disorder . . . no, that does not belong here. I refuse to be a part of those claims, at least statistically.
There was a major falling out with my two best friends in this city, there was the blow of being rejected from two colleges which I had previously considered safety schools. I was recently told that I have been stuck in the same place with my technique for the past month and that "nothing is improving", after taking more extra classes than most girls in the company would deign to consider (not to mention dropping an absolutely absurd amount of money on cross-training). I'm recovering from a weekend of the stomach flu which caused me to miss a total of of 8 hours of rehearsal. It is more than likely that my illness was brought on by not sleeping or eating well for the preceding week, though if that wasn't enough, there's the fact that I spent most of the previous night attempting to purge and finally settling the score with some good old mutilation and laxative abuse. Secretly, though, I am almost glad about being sick . . . the drive to dance is slipping out of my life.
I am, basically, alone. As I mentioned before, I am now being ostracized by many of the girls in my class. I realize that many of the people I associate with on a regular basis think I'm a freak because of my mental state, even though I've gotten really good on putting on a happy face (my boyfriend is the only person who will point out that I am not genuinely smiling). I tell myself that I really can't afford to be hanging out with people around AP exams, and so I retreat farther and farther into myself; become more and more introverted. To be honest, this might be permanent and have nothing to do with my re-emerging depressive/eating disordered habits: I have realized due to recent events that people are, by and large, extraordinarily cruel.
I don't relate to the impulse to treat others badly, nor is the ability to live without intellectual stimulation something I can understand.
I try, as much as I possibly can, to live my life with compassion and humility, even as I am faithless and self-defeating. I will always be passionately curious about the world and absolutely worship art of any kind, even if I believe myself to be unworthy and/or stupid.
I don't want to think about the type of person I would be if I lost those values.
Here's the truth: I want to go to college so that I can be taken care of for four years. I want to go back to that womb of books and classes and the learning environment, to live and work with people filled with that same naive enthusiasm which is slowly dying inside of me, remove myself from the burden of a career which might possibly kill me, a devotion to a beauty that is simply too much to bear.
And at the same time: I can't let that go. My strongest memory from the last time I didn't dance was listening to Serenade in C Major and absolutely wailing in misery. Does it have to get to that point?
Silence . . . come fill our ears/with the vast stillness/of your instruments
- Anna Kamienska
If you sat through all of that, I'm terribly sorry and thank you for caring. Feel free to drop me a line if you ever need someone. I know I may not make my presence felt on the internet most of the time, but I'm always here to listen. Always.
I'm a lonely person.
social anxiety; major depressive disorder . . . no, that does not belong here. I refuse to be a part of those claims, at least statistically.
There was a major falling out with my two best friends in this city, there was the blow of being rejected from two colleges which I had previously considered safety schools. I was recently told that I have been stuck in the same place with my technique for the past month and that "nothing is improving", after taking more extra classes than most girls in the company would deign to consider (not to mention dropping an absolutely absurd amount of money on cross-training). I'm recovering from a weekend of the stomach flu which caused me to miss a total of of 8 hours of rehearsal. It is more than likely that my illness was brought on by not sleeping or eating well for the preceding week, though if that wasn't enough, there's the fact that I spent most of the previous night attempting to purge and finally settling the score with some good old mutilation and laxative abuse. Secretly, though, I am almost glad about being sick . . . the drive to dance is slipping out of my life.
I am, basically, alone. As I mentioned before, I am now being ostracized by many of the girls in my class. I realize that many of the people I associate with on a regular basis think I'm a freak because of my mental state, even though I've gotten really good on putting on a happy face (my boyfriend is the only person who will point out that I am not genuinely smiling). I tell myself that I really can't afford to be hanging out with people around AP exams, and so I retreat farther and farther into myself; become more and more introverted. To be honest, this might be permanent and have nothing to do with my re-emerging depressive/eating disordered habits: I have realized due to recent events that people are, by and large, extraordinarily cruel.
I don't relate to the impulse to treat others badly, nor is the ability to live without intellectual stimulation something I can understand.
I try, as much as I possibly can, to live my life with compassion and humility, even as I am faithless and self-defeating. I will always be passionately curious about the world and absolutely worship art of any kind, even if I believe myself to be unworthy and/or stupid.
I don't want to think about the type of person I would be if I lost those values.
Here's the truth: I want to go to college so that I can be taken care of for four years. I want to go back to that womb of books and classes and the learning environment, to live and work with people filled with that same naive enthusiasm which is slowly dying inside of me, remove myself from the burden of a career which might possibly kill me, a devotion to a beauty that is simply too much to bear.
And at the same time: I can't let that go. My strongest memory from the last time I didn't dance was listening to Serenade in C Major and absolutely wailing in misery. Does it have to get to that point?
Silence . . . come fill our ears/with the vast stillness/of your instruments
- Anna Kamienska
If you sat through all of that, I'm terribly sorry and thank you for caring. Feel free to drop me a line if you ever need someone. I know I may not make my presence felt on the internet most of the time, but I'm always here to listen. Always.
I'm a lonely person.