(no subject)
I haven't written in quite some time. I'm sorry everyone, but that's just me. I dislike writing about myself, I even know the reason...it's too open, too up-close-and-personal for me to write something about myself, about what I feel, how I think, and then have to read it knowing that others will as well.
Those of you who know me and have for a while know that I sometimes lapse into silence, just sit and stare ahead. I'm too introverted for my own good, I think, but I can't just open up. In fact, I don't think there's been a moment in my life where I can remember not thinking something I've kept hidden. I'll let people know that I keep things to myself, but I won't let them know what.
And I loath being this introspective; makes me feel as though I'm being pitiful, selfish. Oh well, anyone who doesn't like it doesn't have to read my livejournal, right? I mean, it's mine, to write in, about me. Still doesn't mean I'm comfortable with it...
Okay. Well, I went to church today, the one I used to go to when I was younger. It was wonderful to see everyone, one of the few places where I can be around people and not feel suffocated. I don't know how many of you were aware, but I'm have undiagnosed Social Anxiety Disorder. I didn't really admit it to myself until I have a complete break down at State Competition...I really don't liek to think about that, but I'm going to try showing more of myself in this thing, for once. Let it be of some use.
I had felt out of place all day. My roommates were two taller, prettier girls, both very nice, both smart. I had met one of them, but still felt uncomfortable. Anyway, I was nervous. I had been to Regionals, but that was a few hours, not days. There were so many people. I opted not to go to the "That's Enteretainment" progarm (which I later saw at Nationals, and now regret not seeing it, and went to check out the paintings, one of which would be mine. I felt nervous, shaky. Part of the reason I'd stayed away from the show was that there were too many people and I didn't think I could handle it. But when I was looking at the paintings, I heard people talking. Too many, but not as bad as it would have been. I heard one of them say something about the painting. About how it looked like it was upside-down. And something clicked. I walked very fast to the room, shaking and surpressing tears. It wasn't the coment, just...everything. I found an area beside the bed and hid, crying.
Half an hour, forty-five minutes later, one of my roommates came in. I had dried my tears, washed my face, but she could tell something was wrong. Her name was Christine, and she's very nice. She knew something was wrong and was too nice about it. I couldn't hold it back. I felt as though I were hyperventalating. She even gave me a hug, bless her. I had myself under control by the time Alyssa, our other room mate, came in, and even let them convince me to go to that night's dance.
I've had other break-downs in the past, including some at Nationals (two). One at school. Actually, a few, but most I'm able to surpress before it gets too bad.
Okay, so my poetry.....Let's see what I come up with tonight.
There's a fire inside my belly
And it burns into a rage,
Which beats at my insides,
A beast inside a cage.
It eats me alive,
Slowly, from the inside,
Burns me to a crisp,
Smoke curls in a whisp
From my fingertips.
There's a cold inside of me,
An icy-blue myst
Which creeps up my flesh,
Unable to resist.
It freezes my blood
Inside of their veins,
Its coldness runs rampant,
It totally reings
O'er me.
They clash and collide,
They seeth and they writhe,
They torture me fully with their
Cold-hot despise.
I cannot be rid of these forces
Which reside inside my heart
And eat me alive.
Whoa, song-like, reminds me of Manson, or Rob Zombie....Not very me, now is it? I think this is my longest post thus far, what with all the reminescing. Joy...
Valete, amicis.
Those of you who know me and have for a while know that I sometimes lapse into silence, just sit and stare ahead. I'm too introverted for my own good, I think, but I can't just open up. In fact, I don't think there's been a moment in my life where I can remember not thinking something I've kept hidden. I'll let people know that I keep things to myself, but I won't let them know what.
And I loath being this introspective; makes me feel as though I'm being pitiful, selfish. Oh well, anyone who doesn't like it doesn't have to read my livejournal, right? I mean, it's mine, to write in, about me. Still doesn't mean I'm comfortable with it...
Okay. Well, I went to church today, the one I used to go to when I was younger. It was wonderful to see everyone, one of the few places where I can be around people and not feel suffocated. I don't know how many of you were aware, but I'm have undiagnosed Social Anxiety Disorder. I didn't really admit it to myself until I have a complete break down at State Competition...I really don't liek to think about that, but I'm going to try showing more of myself in this thing, for once. Let it be of some use.
I had felt out of place all day. My roommates were two taller, prettier girls, both very nice, both smart. I had met one of them, but still felt uncomfortable. Anyway, I was nervous. I had been to Regionals, but that was a few hours, not days. There were so many people. I opted not to go to the "That's Enteretainment" progarm (which I later saw at Nationals, and now regret not seeing it, and went to check out the paintings, one of which would be mine. I felt nervous, shaky. Part of the reason I'd stayed away from the show was that there were too many people and I didn't think I could handle it. But when I was looking at the paintings, I heard people talking. Too many, but not as bad as it would have been. I heard one of them say something about the painting. About how it looked like it was upside-down. And something clicked. I walked very fast to the room, shaking and surpressing tears. It wasn't the coment, just...everything. I found an area beside the bed and hid, crying.
Half an hour, forty-five minutes later, one of my roommates came in. I had dried my tears, washed my face, but she could tell something was wrong. Her name was Christine, and she's very nice. She knew something was wrong and was too nice about it. I couldn't hold it back. I felt as though I were hyperventalating. She even gave me a hug, bless her. I had myself under control by the time Alyssa, our other room mate, came in, and even let them convince me to go to that night's dance.
I've had other break-downs in the past, including some at Nationals (two). One at school. Actually, a few, but most I'm able to surpress before it gets too bad.
Okay, so my poetry.....Let's see what I come up with tonight.
There's a fire inside my belly
And it burns into a rage,
Which beats at my insides,
A beast inside a cage.
It eats me alive,
Slowly, from the inside,
Burns me to a crisp,
Smoke curls in a whisp
From my fingertips.
There's a cold inside of me,
An icy-blue myst
Which creeps up my flesh,
Unable to resist.
It freezes my blood
Inside of their veins,
Its coldness runs rampant,
It totally reings
O'er me.
They clash and collide,
They seeth and they writhe,
They torture me fully with their
Cold-hot despise.
I cannot be rid of these forces
Which reside inside my heart
And eat me alive.
Whoa, song-like, reminds me of Manson, or Rob Zombie....Not very me, now is it? I think this is my longest post thus far, what with all the reminescing. Joy...
Valete, amicis.