I ask some questions here feel free to ignore them...they're rhetorical questions.
28 January 2013
I woke up in the morning curled up in the fetal position not wanting to get up, I knew I had to take a shower, get dressed, brush my teeth and eat a quick meal before leaving to the ungodly hour that is a three hour class of learning and understanding concepts that somehow correlate to what my dream is. Sometimes I just don't see the point but then I come out learning something new or looking at something in a newer perspective. It's tedious at first but then I remember that this is the best moments of my life. I enjoy it because out of my house and away from my family troubles. For a moment it's about me, it's about being on my own outside of the realm of my convoluted world that I was brought up in. I hate being home nowadays, I'm not trying to be a bitch but god do I hate the sound of babies and their high pitched squeals! I hate their innocence; I hate having put up a front and pretend that I am not bothered by their presence. I hate having to see their unclouded that are free of guilt and any complex emotions…because to them nothing is as complicated. Mother loves you and daddy can never see you go wrong but then you get older and that's when high expectations are placed upon your shoulders.
How does it feel to be shut down by your own parents? To be told that no, you can't be this or something that our single-mindedness refuses to comprehend? It's an awful deprecating feeling. I hide my feelings; I'm confused as what I am. What am I? Am I a heterosexual…bisexual…homosexual…a writer…a dreamer…a fighter…a struggler? What the hell am I? I don't know, but I hope to figure this out in the years to come.
I believe the hardest job one will ever have to do is being you; it's a constant work that demands unlimited patience and attention. But I believe if you are willing endure all the pain and suffering that comes along with being, you'll find that you are date much happier then the one chooses to be impatient.
I went to there last Thursday, and I learned something that is both amazing and well weird for lack of a better word. I found that there was another with a similar past like mine but only that person had decided to compliant to what the world had given that person but I, unlike that person, had said "no". No, I'm not going to do drugs. No, I'm not going to give you what I still believe is my virginity (although nowadays I just don't know and if someone knows please tell me because I don't know! I don't remember!). No, I'm not going to become like my brother and sister. No, I'm not going to give up on life. Yes, I am going to set a good example for my impressionable little brother. If life decides that it is going to be an asshole then so be it, but don't think I am going let it keep from my dream. Sure, I've strayed and briefly went back to almost giving because who hasn't when there are things like memories or people saying things that derogatory to your person?
I am proud to say that I have never tried to do any drug of any form. I can't say the same for alcohol though, but that had been different. My brother didn't warn me and I thought it was water. That was my stupidity for not smelling the alcohol anyway. And I can say one thing about it and that was it tasted like rotten eagle ass.
Sometimes I wish I knew what to say at the right moment. Sometimes I wish I could look my sister in the eye and say it's going to get better but I can't because she…she's my sister, we've both dealt with things differently and she's impossible to understand at times. I look at her and the world freeze in my tongue. I wish I had the courage to tell the so-called man she's with to fuck off. Get away from her life. She wants to go to college; she wants something better then a jobless, homeless asshole like YOU! She deserves better, and better than him. YOU made her into an alcoholic drug addict, god dammit leave her alone! Stop making her cry. When I was young she never cried so much, she wasn't this broken or used like a bank account. I wish I had the courage to defend her. I wish I had the courage to slap her and get her head straight and tell her that it will get better but only if you're willing to work for it. I want to tell her that the proof is in the pudding, look at our dad! He went from being a homeless immigrant with our at the time pregnant mother to a successful proprietor/engineer (or whatever the fixing and making industrial motors is called).
Maybe she doesn't see it but I do! I wish I had the courage to say all this to her rather than a bunch of strangers but I cannot. While I've become strong mentally, I lack a strong self-esteem. I see flaws were people claim to see none. I don't believe my therapist when he tells me that I hold a greater purpose and that I am going to make someone really happy. How can I make anyone happy when I myself am only happy for a fraction of a second? How is it possible for me to be something greater when I fail at everything? I can't talk to someone on the phone for crying out loud. I feel panicked at sign of meeting a stranger. I hope against all hope that no one sits next to me on the bus or that I don't have to sit next to someone on the bus. I'm scared and sometimes even terrified of being near or having to talk to the opposite sex. I blew off a good friend because that person was the opposite sex and that in my irrational delusional beliefs that that person was stalking me. I blew it out of proportion and I regret because I know I must have hurt that person.
Sometimes I think I'm crazy. I had a crazy moment today in fact. I heard my sister make a small innocent comment of a boy being cute. I don't know (rather unwilling search for the answer because secretly I know why I reacted that way). I blew up on her, claiming that it was inappropriate for her to say such a thing and that she really shouldn't commented it on it…she twenty-one, therefore shouldn't remark such things about underage boys being cute. I know she meant nothing by it; it was as innocent as her remarking our dogs are cute but I just couldn't stand it. It was irrational for me to think at that she was perverting that little boy with her comment but I still felt that way.
I felt so strong in my heart. I'm afraid of what my reaction might mean. Perhaps I'm just blowing things out of proportion, and maybe I'm little neurotic. Still, I feel like I had to defend that boy.
I had to.
I had to because…I never defended myself.
The sad part is I'm starting to realize the subtly of what my therapist was trying to tell me since the very beginning. I sit here, and beginning to understand it. I…I blame myself for everything. If I had only listened…then maybe…just maybe nothing would have ever happened.
That's it for this day; this realization has hit me just now. Now I just have to get past it. I don't know when that will be but I know that when I do, I'll know that I will have some closure with that part of my life and perhaps I am wrong and it isn't that simple but for me it is. At least for the time being it will be.