Endless battles.
Well, I am sitting in my grandmother's living room. This is probably going to be the last time that I'm here with my entire family. Household, I should say.
Allyson is next to me, reading Eat This Not That: Supermarket Edition. Out loud. At me, not to me. Wait, no. She just answered the phone. It's my dad and grandma. They are picking up some Mandarin food and mulch and need to know what we all would like.
I have no appetite. I feel rather empty. And I don't want to fill that void with food.
My mom is sitting in a chair across the coffee table, against a wall full of photographs and paintings. Photographs of the great grandchild, Lucas, now dominate the room. There are thirteen photos of him in this room.
Chris, my favourite uncle, is also here. He's in my grandfather's chair, which goes largely unsat in. My grandfather died years ago, when I was in the fifth grade. Sadly, I didn't feel anything then, nor do I now. I was never close to him.
Chris and my mom are talking about Mrs. Miller having Bashat's Disease. Chris is a doctor. I admire him so much. He's really awkward. He doesn't handle social situations well, he's sarcastic, he's harsh. However, he is a hardcore Republican. Now, I am a Republican, but I'm not hardcore. I'm socially moderate and fiscally conservative. But Chris, Chris is far right all the way.
Racism and close-mindedness seem to run rampant in my family. I do not understand it. I cannot stand it. I grit my teeth and cringe each and every time I hear a remark about any ethnic group. Chris is trying to understand why on Earth I chose Survey of Islamic History as one of my courses. My parents do not understand how I am so interested in the Middle East, nor do they understand why I defend it and it's people. Nor are they willing to understand.
This weekend truly has been incredible. It has been an eye-opening experience.
I've been trying to come to terms with a lot of issues I have with myself and my life. I've had a few successes. I've had a few failures.
I have accepted the fact that I am not going to keep most of my friends. I'm not sure who I'm going to end up close to and who I won't, but I have a few fair guesses. None of which I will list on here. I thought I would be sad about it, but I'm not. In fact, a part of me looks forward to losing them. That part of me also wants to completely forsake the relationships I do not feel confident in, wants to tell those people how I feel. But I won't. It wouldn't be right.
I fear a great many things, some of which are ridiculous, others of which are reasonable. I need to start facing my fears. I need to get over my fears. At Josh's birthday party, I tried climbing the rock wall. I couldn't make it all the way up. I can't fairly judge how far I got, seeing as I was not on the ground. I came back down. I attempted to face my fear of heights and failed.
Chris just suggested I become a writer. I have no talent as a writer. I can never find the proper words to use, I can never find the proper way to express myself.
I used to talk to people. I used to confide in Crisco. Brittany was my best friend. Josh was the one person I felt comfortable baring my soul to. And I lost that. I don't know how, or why, but I lost that. Although Crisco and I are closer now than we ever were before, I don't feel as if I can talk to him. As if I can tell him anything. Not out of lack of trust, but because of his clear lack of interest. I don't blame him, really. Brittany was always somewhat difficult to talk to, but I could talk to her. We haven't spoken in years, though. And Josh, Josh and I fell apart. We went our own ways for a while, but we're finally friends again. Since the moment we started talking again, the moment I started feeling as if we might become friends again, I have had the desire to turn to Josh with all of my thoughts, my fears, my hopes, my dreams, my thoughts. Everything. But, until this weekend, I have declined to do such.
I've also been having difficulties with my beliefs lately. Love, mostly. Pathetically, really.
I don't know whether I believe in it or not. I've been struggling to decide this for a while. I use the word often. On a daily basis, in fact. But I don't know whether I believe it exists. After all, it's just an emotion. It's a word used so the general population will understand how someone feels. But it also forces the general population to seek out feelings and emotions. I've felt as if I were in love in the past, but looking back, I don't really know. I want to say no, I don't believe in love, I just gave a popularly accepted title to strong feelings I've felt. But then that conflicts with my desire to belief that you can only have one true love. Yet that conflicts with my refusal to believe in fairy tale notions. Love is a fairy tale notion.
And, as much as I want to reject love, I feel it. I love my family. I love my friends. And, for the past many months, eight or nine, I'm not quite sure, I feel as if I've been falling. Into what? I don't know. My heart says it's love. But my mind refuses to believe in love.
That, essentially, sums up my life. A battle between heart and mind.
Allyson is next to me, reading Eat This Not That: Supermarket Edition. Out loud. At me, not to me. Wait, no. She just answered the phone. It's my dad and grandma. They are picking up some Mandarin food and mulch and need to know what we all would like.
I have no appetite. I feel rather empty. And I don't want to fill that void with food.
My mom is sitting in a chair across the coffee table, against a wall full of photographs and paintings. Photographs of the great grandchild, Lucas, now dominate the room. There are thirteen photos of him in this room.
Chris, my favourite uncle, is also here. He's in my grandfather's chair, which goes largely unsat in. My grandfather died years ago, when I was in the fifth grade. Sadly, I didn't feel anything then, nor do I now. I was never close to him.
Chris and my mom are talking about Mrs. Miller having Bashat's Disease. Chris is a doctor. I admire him so much. He's really awkward. He doesn't handle social situations well, he's sarcastic, he's harsh. However, he is a hardcore Republican. Now, I am a Republican, but I'm not hardcore. I'm socially moderate and fiscally conservative. But Chris, Chris is far right all the way.
Racism and close-mindedness seem to run rampant in my family. I do not understand it. I cannot stand it. I grit my teeth and cringe each and every time I hear a remark about any ethnic group. Chris is trying to understand why on Earth I chose Survey of Islamic History as one of my courses. My parents do not understand how I am so interested in the Middle East, nor do they understand why I defend it and it's people. Nor are they willing to understand.
This weekend truly has been incredible. It has been an eye-opening experience.
I've been trying to come to terms with a lot of issues I have with myself and my life. I've had a few successes. I've had a few failures.
I have accepted the fact that I am not going to keep most of my friends. I'm not sure who I'm going to end up close to and who I won't, but I have a few fair guesses. None of which I will list on here. I thought I would be sad about it, but I'm not. In fact, a part of me looks forward to losing them. That part of me also wants to completely forsake the relationships I do not feel confident in, wants to tell those people how I feel. But I won't. It wouldn't be right.
I fear a great many things, some of which are ridiculous, others of which are reasonable. I need to start facing my fears. I need to get over my fears. At Josh's birthday party, I tried climbing the rock wall. I couldn't make it all the way up. I can't fairly judge how far I got, seeing as I was not on the ground. I came back down. I attempted to face my fear of heights and failed.
Chris just suggested I become a writer. I have no talent as a writer. I can never find the proper words to use, I can never find the proper way to express myself.
I used to talk to people. I used to confide in Crisco. Brittany was my best friend. Josh was the one person I felt comfortable baring my soul to. And I lost that. I don't know how, or why, but I lost that. Although Crisco and I are closer now than we ever were before, I don't feel as if I can talk to him. As if I can tell him anything. Not out of lack of trust, but because of his clear lack of interest. I don't blame him, really. Brittany was always somewhat difficult to talk to, but I could talk to her. We haven't spoken in years, though. And Josh, Josh and I fell apart. We went our own ways for a while, but we're finally friends again. Since the moment we started talking again, the moment I started feeling as if we might become friends again, I have had the desire to turn to Josh with all of my thoughts, my fears, my hopes, my dreams, my thoughts. Everything. But, until this weekend, I have declined to do such.
I've also been having difficulties with my beliefs lately. Love, mostly. Pathetically, really.
I don't know whether I believe in it or not. I've been struggling to decide this for a while. I use the word often. On a daily basis, in fact. But I don't know whether I believe it exists. After all, it's just an emotion. It's a word used so the general population will understand how someone feels. But it also forces the general population to seek out feelings and emotions. I've felt as if I were in love in the past, but looking back, I don't really know. I want to say no, I don't believe in love, I just gave a popularly accepted title to strong feelings I've felt. But then that conflicts with my desire to belief that you can only have one true love. Yet that conflicts with my refusal to believe in fairy tale notions. Love is a fairy tale notion.
And, as much as I want to reject love, I feel it. I love my family. I love my friends. And, for the past many months, eight or nine, I'm not quite sure, I feel as if I've been falling. Into what? I don't know. My heart says it's love. But my mind refuses to believe in love.
That, essentially, sums up my life. A battle between heart and mind.