3/2
2010
-
4:42 a.m.
If you are reading this blog, I can trust that you want to know me. The following is some of the most honest stuff I could ever say about myself. If you don’t want to read it, that’s fine. It’s heavy. Not everyone in my life has to be on this level with me. I have some friendships that are superficial and I’m happy to keep them that way. But there might be one person out there who will read this and relate to me. I’m really not looking for sympathy. I’m just being loud for a little while. I’ve been quiet my entire life, and now I’m going to make some noise. I might as well try it out and see if it makes me feel better. At this point… I’m not really afraid of scaring people off. If I’m exhausting to be around, or too much drama, or whatever, I don’t really care anymore. I’m just going to talk for a little and while see where that takes me.
I can’t write much at the moment because I am so frustrated with myself, it would take me forever to figure out the perfect way to describe how I’m feeling and, of course, I can’t allow anything to be seen unless it’s perfect. I just need to say that I am sick of punishing myself for things that shouldn’t mean anything to me anymore or things that never existed in the first place. I’ve come to realize my life is just a series of punishments. Every day, every hour, I sabotage myself, my health, my happiness in countless ways that are so automatic that I can’t control them, let alone recognize they are happening. My life is a revolving door of bullshit that is created and maintained by me. I make the same mistakes over and over. I can’t even call them mistakes because I know what I am doing. They are decisions. I know the causes and the effects of all of my actions because I have been facing the same consequences for 13 years. And every time I feel myself taking the exact path that has always made me unhappy/ashamed/frustrated/angry/bitter/guilty, I continue on it because I’m stuck in a groove. I would rather be hurt in a way that I am familiar with than take a chance at something new and be disappointed in a potentially deeper or more public way. I’d rather beat myself up for the most minor indiscretion than give anyone the opportunity to hurt me. Why am I doing this? I’m a smart person. I’m a good person. Why can’t I just be happy? Do I think I deserve to be this unhappy? It’s not even unhappiness. I feel like I’ve devastated my life. I’ve wasted so many opportunities. I’ve wasted money. I’ve wasted food. I’ve wasted trust and love and more time than anyone could hope to have. I could have done something so important with all of the time I have let slip away. I know I am capable of doing something sincerely brilliant. I can literally feel it bubbling inside of me. I have that seed of confidence somewhere that acknowledges that it is even possible. But as soon as I muster up the self-esteem to take the tiniest step in the right direction, I backtrack or give up completely at the smallest hurdle. I am exhausted by all the regrets that are locked in my brain. Regrets that I can’t forgive and I can’t escape and that haunt me with very little provocation. My fear of failure is so crippling, but shouldn’t I realize that I have no where to go but up? Why is it still so scary?
I didn’t expect to write this tonight, but I do feel better.
