In response to Lisa's comment...
I know what you are talking about, and no matter how blunt you are about it, I appreciate the truth. So here is my response.
I didn't mention hating my voice in this previous entry because I know I am completely self destructive lately. The times I hate my voice is when I am not doing things to be self destrutive and it still sucks, like all the allergy problems I had earlier this year when I wasn't smoking. I know that I have problems with drug and alcohol abuse, and I have been this way my whole life. I try to pretend that my problems are something I can just decide to drink or smoke away, and that for a few moments of my life, I won't worry about how truly unhappy I am and just enjoy where I am at that moment. This is something most normal people understand and can comfortably practice in everyday life, but I seem to have missed that bus in middle school, when I was publicly humiliated by my best friend at the time - also the reason it took me this long to have a jewish friend again. She told everyone that I had a huge crush on this boy and then proceeded to tell him I had graphic sex dreams about him and was spreading this news all over the place. I was quite mortified when he threatened to take administrative action against me in front of a bunch of 'popular' girls, since I had no idea what sex was back then. I was 12, for heavens sake!
Since then, I have done all sorts of ritutalistic torture to my body, such as cutting myself with razor blades, burning myself, smoking, drinking, starving myself, running away, working horrendous hours, excessive exersizing, abusing myself or letting myself be abused sexually, and spending countless hours writing mantras of self hate. There is something black on my soul, some internal anger and dispair I have never dealt with, and occasionally, as I start to move forward through my life, I find I take some time to revert before moving on. I will not complain that my voice is bad anymore, because from the damaging behaviors I participate, I can only expect that. Although, if I choose to stop, which I am planning on it by the time I leave for CT, I will give myself time to recouperate and rebuild, after which time I will begin complaining.
There is one thing I try to ask of my friends, although most see these types of behaviors as selfish and immature, is that they just listen to me, perhaps ask me what is wrong. I hate, HATE to bother people with my problems, especially since I saw how much my relationship with Randy strained my friendships and consumed my life. I don't think it is anyone's responsibility to be my shrink, but I think a good friend should listen and tell you if you are being ridiculous or not. I am not a happy person in my soul, and I never have been because I have always thought of myself as inadequate. Therefore, why worry about things that damage you, because you are already damaged goods? I don't find anything redeeming about my body, my talents, or my mind, although I am sure all function appropriately. Someday I will realize that all my superficial concerns and overcomplicated perfectionism will subside and I will realize that I am alive and doing things that I love, surrounded by people who love me. I will discover that living, giving, loving, being, and receiving are all that I need, and what I look like, what I think of my talents, and what I have convinced myself to think about my being are all inconsequential to what I can do with what I have been given. It is a long, hard process, and it is slowly making its way toward the goal of self happiness.
Right now, I have to admit that I am in a bad place. I graduated from college, which is super cool, but now what? I am stuck the summer with a job that ends Sept. 11, gives me no hope of advancement, and pays $8 an hour. I am not attending graduate school right away, I don't know about opera columbus's season, I don't even know what I want to do about grad school if I decide to begin in 2007. I don't want to move home, but I am almost tempted. All my good friends are doing summer programs abroad, and I am $80,000 in debt from my undergrad, so I cannot afford another $5,000 price tag on a trip, despite the obvious educational experience. I would love to go, but who would take me? And most of all, I miss my Katie. Nobody sees in me the fact that we are two of a kind, because I am not as outward with my emotional instability, but we are definately two women who should have been related. Somehow, talking and being with her put me in perspective, and it makes everything better. She doesnt judge me, she doesnt get mad at the things I do unless they are focused directly and negativly on her. I know we all talk, but I love my friends no matter what they do, and I try not to judge, since I know how easy it is to judge my mistakes and choices. I know I am not always successful at that, especially when I am talking amongst friends, but after some thinking, I usually do not act on it.
If anyone knows what its like to not be perfect, it's me. I am self destructive in the worst of all ways, typically shooting myself in the foot with my behaviors and habits. And someday soon, I will discover that I don't need it, but for now, I am wallowing.
The End. (for real)
I didn't mention hating my voice in this previous entry because I know I am completely self destructive lately. The times I hate my voice is when I am not doing things to be self destrutive and it still sucks, like all the allergy problems I had earlier this year when I wasn't smoking. I know that I have problems with drug and alcohol abuse, and I have been this way my whole life. I try to pretend that my problems are something I can just decide to drink or smoke away, and that for a few moments of my life, I won't worry about how truly unhappy I am and just enjoy where I am at that moment. This is something most normal people understand and can comfortably practice in everyday life, but I seem to have missed that bus in middle school, when I was publicly humiliated by my best friend at the time - also the reason it took me this long to have a jewish friend again. She told everyone that I had a huge crush on this boy and then proceeded to tell him I had graphic sex dreams about him and was spreading this news all over the place. I was quite mortified when he threatened to take administrative action against me in front of a bunch of 'popular' girls, since I had no idea what sex was back then. I was 12, for heavens sake!
Since then, I have done all sorts of ritutalistic torture to my body, such as cutting myself with razor blades, burning myself, smoking, drinking, starving myself, running away, working horrendous hours, excessive exersizing, abusing myself or letting myself be abused sexually, and spending countless hours writing mantras of self hate. There is something black on my soul, some internal anger and dispair I have never dealt with, and occasionally, as I start to move forward through my life, I find I take some time to revert before moving on. I will not complain that my voice is bad anymore, because from the damaging behaviors I participate, I can only expect that. Although, if I choose to stop, which I am planning on it by the time I leave for CT, I will give myself time to recouperate and rebuild, after which time I will begin complaining.
There is one thing I try to ask of my friends, although most see these types of behaviors as selfish and immature, is that they just listen to me, perhaps ask me what is wrong. I hate, HATE to bother people with my problems, especially since I saw how much my relationship with Randy strained my friendships and consumed my life. I don't think it is anyone's responsibility to be my shrink, but I think a good friend should listen and tell you if you are being ridiculous or not. I am not a happy person in my soul, and I never have been because I have always thought of myself as inadequate. Therefore, why worry about things that damage you, because you are already damaged goods? I don't find anything redeeming about my body, my talents, or my mind, although I am sure all function appropriately. Someday I will realize that all my superficial concerns and overcomplicated perfectionism will subside and I will realize that I am alive and doing things that I love, surrounded by people who love me. I will discover that living, giving, loving, being, and receiving are all that I need, and what I look like, what I think of my talents, and what I have convinced myself to think about my being are all inconsequential to what I can do with what I have been given. It is a long, hard process, and it is slowly making its way toward the goal of self happiness.
Right now, I have to admit that I am in a bad place. I graduated from college, which is super cool, but now what? I am stuck the summer with a job that ends Sept. 11, gives me no hope of advancement, and pays $8 an hour. I am not attending graduate school right away, I don't know about opera columbus's season, I don't even know what I want to do about grad school if I decide to begin in 2007. I don't want to move home, but I am almost tempted. All my good friends are doing summer programs abroad, and I am $80,000 in debt from my undergrad, so I cannot afford another $5,000 price tag on a trip, despite the obvious educational experience. I would love to go, but who would take me? And most of all, I miss my Katie. Nobody sees in me the fact that we are two of a kind, because I am not as outward with my emotional instability, but we are definately two women who should have been related. Somehow, talking and being with her put me in perspective, and it makes everything better. She doesnt judge me, she doesnt get mad at the things I do unless they are focused directly and negativly on her. I know we all talk, but I love my friends no matter what they do, and I try not to judge, since I know how easy it is to judge my mistakes and choices. I know I am not always successful at that, especially when I am talking amongst friends, but after some thinking, I usually do not act on it.
If anyone knows what its like to not be perfect, it's me. I am self destructive in the worst of all ways, typically shooting myself in the foot with my behaviors and habits. And someday soon, I will discover that I don't need it, but for now, I am wallowing.
The End. (for real)