Three freshman handwritten entries
While organizing my shit I came across three entries from the beginning of November freshman year. I've changed a lot from the entries, but i'm putting them here for a record and so you can see how flowery and crazy things felt at the beginning of college. I will extend a warning if you read your way through the entries... I was writting them while I was questioning so I was very, very confused... I also wrote them with the intention of never showing them to anyone, so I gave my mind hysterical freedom to be as paranoid and insane as it needed to be. I've changed a shit tonne since I wrote these, and I no longer feel that... intensely... I've mellowed, matured and am much more disillusioned with the world now.
I reproduced the markings on the paper as closely as I could. (underlining, caps, etc)
November 2, 2003 or November 3, 2003 (in the morning) Sun/Mon
The days tick down to my period, the cramps begin, and the hormonal fluctuations start to make my normally confused thoughts a storm of chaotic pain, hope, expectation, confusion, dreams, excitement and fear. I've felt this fear before. The time when I felt it was also accompanied by the inner gnawing of my gender, the dull slashing scream of my body reminding me that I am a haven for the creation of another being whom I can commit to an empty life in this beatiful empty world.
What is my fear? What am I afraid of? I am afraid of being trapped, tied down, anchored firmly to a source of pain and betrayal that I will have to tear myself apart to escape. I am terrified of getting too close, and then never feeling happy again. I love being happy. I love laughing with friends, feeling the triumphant joy of figuring out the answer to a problem that plagued me, and feeling my heart quicken at the sight of my affection... my unattainable affection. You see, once the butterflies leave to be replaced by pure (there are no words to describe this feeling that is akin to joy/love/affection/happiness) or once they mutate into moths, the fear sets it. NO! my mind screams with one of its voices, You can not get close to people! They hurt you, they leave you, they take your love and crush it eternally between their hands because they cannot, will not, give it back to you. YOu are stepping into your gilded cage where the damned must go. No one can give you what you wand as you always ask just too much, just over the line of tolerable, from everyone. They all hurty you, they all will never let you go because you love them. They don't love you. They neer can love you the way you want because you demand, plead, desire what they never can give. Then, after the screaming is done, another little voice whispers, "and you like the pain of it all" The voice is right. I am an emotional masochist. I will never find that trust in myself because I am drawn to those that will hurt me. They always hurt me. Yet, they don't, because i'm the one who tied myself to them in the first place. I'm the one that wanted to trust them, that wanted to care.
So now i'm afraid. I'm afraid that i'll do what I did last time. I'll see that I can't get everything that I want, everything that I need. I'll see the prospect of pain in my future and i'll rip myself away, tear myself apart trying to escape. I did it once, I could do it again. What animal would not gladly leave a part of themselves behind to escape their imminent death? The problem is, I die which ever path I take. I draw the lines from my elbow to my wrists to escape the knowledge, the fear, of my execution. But isn't it better to experience the agony now so there is a better chance that saved time being spent on living the next life? The sooner you die, the sooner you can die again. But I arise from my ashes a cripple in battle armor. I cannot heal when my fear consumes me. My fear will always be there as long as I want what cannot be given. Life moves forward and I move backwards. I do not worry though. If I die enough little deaths soon no one will be able to kill me. Their anguished screams of defeat will echo in my ice heart. I will be untouchable.
For now, I will remain scared.
November 4, 2003 5:42pm - 6:15pm
This is what I would say to you if I could find the words that would draw you close without setting the panic off inside of me. Yet, how much closer can we be? I do not know the limits. Here is what I think at this moment.
I love you. It scares me that I love you because I have never loved anyone like this before, so I doubt myself. I doubt you because I am petrified that loving you like this will frighten you. It frightens me. Yet i'm not scared that you will leave, because you told me I couldn't scare you away. I can scare ANYONE away! Why should you be different? Why should I trust you when deep down inside I don't really trust anyone. I trust them superficially, I trust them to be themselves... but I don't trust them to lov eme. I want to trust you to love me. I trust you in so many other ways. You even wrote me that note that said you loved me. But you and I both know it isn't the same type of love. You love me for who I am, the person you see me as, a person who is your friend, who wants to be your friend for a long long time. Maybe you love me differently then that, but I cannot ask, because tthat would be demanding too much from you. It wouldn't be right for me to add that kind of drama into your live. You don't need it, you don't want it. I seem to thrive on it.
Now, onto the worst part... the sappy part... the part of me that I want to burn from myself with ice because of the things it does to me.
I love you as much more then a friend. I could spend even more time than I aldready do with you and never get tired of you, and never stop wanting to throw my arms around you and never let go. I'm scared that because of our different feelings on the subject that i'll do something stupid and that will be that. I'll do something horrible to me, and i'll do something horrible to you. Why am I such a fuck? All I want is something I can't explain, along the lines of just knowing you fully so that I can love you even more than I already do. Everything I see about you, into your mind and into your life makes me love you that much more.
It isn't fair of me to complicate things. It isn't fair of me to write out my thoughts like a love sick loonie. It isn't fair of me because I saw your face after the last thing I wrote and it might not have been completely at fault of what I wrote, there might have been other factors on your mind, but you got just as sad and depressed look as I had been feeling when I wrote my last blurb. It isn't fair of me to do that kind of thing to you, but I persist in doing it, because everything has to be complicated even when it is so wonderfully simple, so wonderfully wonderful.
I guess all I wanted to say in this incoherent mess is that I love you too and that I have every intention of always being here for you in whatever form you need me.
November 12, 2003 1:58pm - 2:14pm
I don't like myself sometimes. I allow my confusion and internal upset to spill out onto the people around me. It isn't fair to them because when I am unable to vocalize what is bothering me, they get confused and upset because they think it is their fault. It isn't. It is just me being rude and visibly unhappy.
I get fixated on little things. I can hyperconcentrate on one tiny detail of my life to the point where it drives me crazy because I can't figure out the perfect plan to make it absolutely wonderful. It doesn't help that i'm impatient. I always love having a plan of attack that I can impliment RIGHT NOW. The ones that stretch over bast periods of time I don't like so much. But waiting is essential. But how long are you supposed to wait before you can for certain state that you are being ridiculous and should find something else to fixate on.
SO why am I internally upset right now? Because I am a pessimist. I look down the road and all I see is doom and destruction. I do also see the wonderful things but I block them out, because I feel if I stare at them for too long, or if I allow myself to look at them at all, they will vanish, and I will be left holding empty air. So all I see is pain.
I don't like seeing only pain. It makes me twitch and cringe inside. It then spills over onto others.
So, in short, I am depressing myself.
Lovely thought. I love her. I don't know what to do.
Thats the end of the three posts.
I'm happy that while listening to this Better than Ezra song I think of people who are currently in my life.
"Why can't I be your lover?
Can there be another?
And when I feel without I want to get you in.
Why can't I be your lover?
At five o'clock you come shuffling in.
And when I lock you out I want to get you,
Let you, get you in."
I reproduced the markings on the paper as closely as I could. (underlining, caps, etc)
November 2, 2003 or November 3, 2003 (in the morning) Sun/Mon
The days tick down to my period, the cramps begin, and the hormonal fluctuations start to make my normally confused thoughts a storm of chaotic pain, hope, expectation, confusion, dreams, excitement and fear. I've felt this fear before. The time when I felt it was also accompanied by the inner gnawing of my gender, the dull slashing scream of my body reminding me that I am a haven for the creation of another being whom I can commit to an empty life in this beatiful empty world.
What is my fear? What am I afraid of? I am afraid of being trapped, tied down, anchored firmly to a source of pain and betrayal that I will have to tear myself apart to escape. I am terrified of getting too close, and then never feeling happy again. I love being happy. I love laughing with friends, feeling the triumphant joy of figuring out the answer to a problem that plagued me, and feeling my heart quicken at the sight of my affection... my unattainable affection. You see, once the butterflies leave to be replaced by pure (there are no words to describe this feeling that is akin to joy/love/affection/happiness) or once they mutate into moths, the fear sets it. NO! my mind screams with one of its voices, You can not get close to people! They hurt you, they leave you, they take your love and crush it eternally between their hands because they cannot, will not, give it back to you. YOu are stepping into your gilded cage where the damned must go. No one can give you what you wand as you always ask just too much, just over the line of tolerable, from everyone. They all hurty you, they all will never let you go because you love them. They don't love you. They neer can love you the way you want because you demand, plead, desire what they never can give. Then, after the screaming is done, another little voice whispers, "and you like the pain of it all" The voice is right. I am an emotional masochist. I will never find that trust in myself because I am drawn to those that will hurt me. They always hurt me. Yet, they don't, because i'm the one who tied myself to them in the first place. I'm the one that wanted to trust them, that wanted to care.
So now i'm afraid. I'm afraid that i'll do what I did last time. I'll see that I can't get everything that I want, everything that I need. I'll see the prospect of pain in my future and i'll rip myself away, tear myself apart trying to escape. I did it once, I could do it again. What animal would not gladly leave a part of themselves behind to escape their imminent death? The problem is, I die which ever path I take. I draw the lines from my elbow to my wrists to escape the knowledge, the fear, of my execution. But isn't it better to experience the agony now so there is a better chance that saved time being spent on living the next life? The sooner you die, the sooner you can die again. But I arise from my ashes a cripple in battle armor. I cannot heal when my fear consumes me. My fear will always be there as long as I want what cannot be given. Life moves forward and I move backwards. I do not worry though. If I die enough little deaths soon no one will be able to kill me. Their anguished screams of defeat will echo in my ice heart. I will be untouchable.
For now, I will remain scared.
November 4, 2003 5:42pm - 6:15pm
This is what I would say to you if I could find the words that would draw you close without setting the panic off inside of me. Yet, how much closer can we be? I do not know the limits. Here is what I think at this moment.
I love you. It scares me that I love you because I have never loved anyone like this before, so I doubt myself. I doubt you because I am petrified that loving you like this will frighten you. It frightens me. Yet i'm not scared that you will leave, because you told me I couldn't scare you away. I can scare ANYONE away! Why should you be different? Why should I trust you when deep down inside I don't really trust anyone. I trust them superficially, I trust them to be themselves... but I don't trust them to lov eme. I want to trust you to love me. I trust you in so many other ways. You even wrote me that note that said you loved me. But you and I both know it isn't the same type of love. You love me for who I am, the person you see me as, a person who is your friend, who wants to be your friend for a long long time. Maybe you love me differently then that, but I cannot ask, because tthat would be demanding too much from you. It wouldn't be right for me to add that kind of drama into your live. You don't need it, you don't want it. I seem to thrive on it.
Now, onto the worst part... the sappy part... the part of me that I want to burn from myself with ice because of the things it does to me.
I love you as much more then a friend. I could spend even more time than I aldready do with you and never get tired of you, and never stop wanting to throw my arms around you and never let go. I'm scared that because of our different feelings on the subject that i'll do something stupid and that will be that. I'll do something horrible to me, and i'll do something horrible to you. Why am I such a fuck? All I want is something I can't explain, along the lines of just knowing you fully so that I can love you even more than I already do. Everything I see about you, into your mind and into your life makes me love you that much more.
It isn't fair of me to complicate things. It isn't fair of me to write out my thoughts like a love sick loonie. It isn't fair of me because I saw your face after the last thing I wrote and it might not have been completely at fault of what I wrote, there might have been other factors on your mind, but you got just as sad and depressed look as I had been feeling when I wrote my last blurb. It isn't fair of me to do that kind of thing to you, but I persist in doing it, because everything has to be complicated even when it is so wonderfully simple, so wonderfully wonderful.
I guess all I wanted to say in this incoherent mess is that I love you too and that I have every intention of always being here for you in whatever form you need me.
November 12, 2003 1:58pm - 2:14pm
I don't like myself sometimes. I allow my confusion and internal upset to spill out onto the people around me. It isn't fair to them because when I am unable to vocalize what is bothering me, they get confused and upset because they think it is their fault. It isn't. It is just me being rude and visibly unhappy.
I get fixated on little things. I can hyperconcentrate on one tiny detail of my life to the point where it drives me crazy because I can't figure out the perfect plan to make it absolutely wonderful. It doesn't help that i'm impatient. I always love having a plan of attack that I can impliment RIGHT NOW. The ones that stretch over bast periods of time I don't like so much. But waiting is essential. But how long are you supposed to wait before you can for certain state that you are being ridiculous and should find something else to fixate on.
SO why am I internally upset right now? Because I am a pessimist. I look down the road and all I see is doom and destruction. I do also see the wonderful things but I block them out, because I feel if I stare at them for too long, or if I allow myself to look at them at all, they will vanish, and I will be left holding empty air. So all I see is pain.
I don't like seeing only pain. It makes me twitch and cringe inside. It then spills over onto others.
So, in short, I am depressing myself.
Lovely thought. I love her. I don't know what to do.
Thats the end of the three posts.
I'm happy that while listening to this Better than Ezra song I think of people who are currently in my life.
"Why can't I be your lover?
Can there be another?
And when I feel without I want to get you in.
Why can't I be your lover?
At five o'clock you come shuffling in.
And when I lock you out I want to get you,
Let you, get you in."