A different side of me.
I said I was going on a hiatus but I guess it's easier said than done. I guess it's because... just because I want to take a hiatus, my feelings and thoughts never will... only when I sleep and only when I die will that happen.
I was just looking through some wallpapers and out of all the sites I've gone through in the past hour, I haven't liked any of them. Am I just picky? Common sense says no; it's not uncommon to be picky about a desktop picture... but then I think about how I am... not just wallpapers, but the other things I do... sometimes when I don't have things to my perfect way, I automatically want to give up.
Last week I didn't get an A on Mr. Elliott's test, and that bugged me. I have a 105% in his class, so even with the test, I still have an A+, but I guess the thing is, I know I could've gotten an higher A, I could've had a 106% maybe, but now I might end up with a 104%. Sometimes, something like that causes me to give up. I know it's dumb, and foolish, but I'm just like this. I'm scared that from now on I won't try as hard... and once you stop trying, grades start slipping. I don't want to have a 90% by the end of the semister, stressing out about whether I would get an A or a B, when I should've gotten at least a 95%, no problem. I don't know why I turned out this way or even when, but when I don't get what I want, I just stop trying altogether. What I should do instead is make up from where I am, I know... but in my mind, I feel like I have already lost my chance because it won't be perfect.
A lot of the decisions I've made in the past months or so, I have felt this way. I keep wanting to give up, because it's obvious that I haven't reached that perfection that I have longed for, but I keep hanging on because I have to. If I don't, then I'm panicing at the last minute, wondering if I got an A- or a B+... if I don't hang on, I'm nothing. But if I'm just hanging out, what the fuck is the point? Hanging on doesn't mean shit! I have to either get out of the deep shit I'm in, or let go... because sooner or later I have to let go... it's impossible to hang on forever.
I said that I was going to an out of state college after I graduated because I wanted to get away from everybody. The truth is, I'm just a scardy-cat. I'll always be a scardy-cat. What I really want to do is run away. Isn't that what everybody wants? I often think back to the life I used to have and I see all these negative things about it, but yet I want to go back because I also saw so much happiness. I didn't used to be bitter and cynical... I didn't used to be level-headed. I didn't used to starve for perfection. I was happy, and I was normal. I made people laugh and have a good time. School was easy and I had a boyfriend and... I was just so dang happy. And then high school started and everything was taken from me bit by bit. And I wonder why I took it all for granted. I wonder why I never saw all of that. I wonder why, all of a sudden, that image of myself is so clear now. And I understand so well that those moments will never come back. And I wonder if my life will be an array of flashbooks with my missing the way I previously was. Will I, in 5 years, turn out more bitter and cynical than I am now? Will I be as hopeless as I am now? What would I think of myself thinking about the past? Is it possible that at one point in my life... that I will miss this stupid second of my meaningless life?
And then I wonder why I said all these things just know. Does knowing anything about myself help me with anything? I know that I want my fucking perfection, but it doesn't change crap. I'm still just hanging in there. I haven't climbed out of my shit position... and if I don't, I'll still fall. I just wish that somebody could be there to help me out. I wish someone would just give me a hand, but nobody can understand you like that... Nobody understands me like that. I gave a piece of myself to so many people and they all have left me. I want to explain to someone so badly. I really wished that I had that shoulder that I could cry on, but no matter how loudly I scream and shout, the bottomless pit seems to suck me in more... and the only sound I hear is the hollow reflection of my own words echoing in my ear, and even though at one point the hole didn't seem so big, the echoing of my voice, somehow made it 10 times worse, 10 times bigger. And then I really wonder whether I should ask for help or not... and if I did and someone responded, would they leave me after helping me for a short while? Do I really want to climb out of the hole, if I knew that the person helping me would leave me during the middle of the way? Would I be able to continue on, even with that betrayal? Is it worth the risk to open up to someone that way? Or am I leading myself to a bigger hole, one that I could fall deeper into than I have ever fallen before? And if I did, how would I be able to pick up the pieces this time?
Sometimes I think that if I had suffered a little more in my childhood, I would've dealt with my pain better. Somehow when I was young, I didn't understand what it meant to have an arguement, what it meant be lonely, what it meant to lose a friend, what it meant to love and hate, what it meant to be jealous... but the truth is, I had experienced all that... My parents used to bicker every night before I slept. I changed elementry schools every year so I only had one real friend, and when we moved away from each other (I went South and she went North), I should've been sad... And I think what happened is that all that loss was built up inside me and I never felt a moment of it... I wonder if, as a child I was a lot smarter than I give myself credit for. I wonder sometimes if I purposely block out all these feelings so I wouldn't have to deal with them, and I wonder if all these feelings have finally caught up to me and I got lost in my own game. I say this because the first bad thing that happened was my parent's arguing. My mom said that as I kid, I'd smile all the time, and once the fighting began, I stopped smiling so much and now, I never smile at home. I wonder if somehow I really did knew what aruging meant... maybe it was THAT detrimental to me, but I wouldn't let it affect me, my thoughts... and I wouldn't let it provoke any sadness. But then I felt everything all at once. I was only depressed for about 3 months after it all happened. Now, I wonder if that was long enough. I wonder if I will truly ever be over it all. And I guess, I wish that that's where the scar ended, but it's so much deeper and so much longer than that. And as much as I try, I don't think I have ever closed my wound... and the thing is, I don't think I have the tools to close it... and I don't know who does.
I want to share so much, but I always hold back. I'm still so wary about sharing myself. If I gave another piece of my heart out, what would you do with it? Someone once told me that I wore my heart on my sleeves and I asked her what I meant. She said that I show my emotions to everyone. I guess the reason is because I want to share. I want to contribute... but I don't know who wants to listen. Do you want to listen? And if you heard what I had to say, how would you take it? Would you think I was weak or strong? Would you pity me or reprimend me? Would you see faults in my decisions that I know I made? Would you support me or run away? Would you think I'm deep or just crazy? Would you think I made this all up? Would you ever think of me the same? I'm not so sure I would.
I was just looking through some wallpapers and out of all the sites I've gone through in the past hour, I haven't liked any of them. Am I just picky? Common sense says no; it's not uncommon to be picky about a desktop picture... but then I think about how I am... not just wallpapers, but the other things I do... sometimes when I don't have things to my perfect way, I automatically want to give up.
Last week I didn't get an A on Mr. Elliott's test, and that bugged me. I have a 105% in his class, so even with the test, I still have an A+, but I guess the thing is, I know I could've gotten an higher A, I could've had a 106% maybe, but now I might end up with a 104%. Sometimes, something like that causes me to give up. I know it's dumb, and foolish, but I'm just like this. I'm scared that from now on I won't try as hard... and once you stop trying, grades start slipping. I don't want to have a 90% by the end of the semister, stressing out about whether I would get an A or a B, when I should've gotten at least a 95%, no problem. I don't know why I turned out this way or even when, but when I don't get what I want, I just stop trying altogether. What I should do instead is make up from where I am, I know... but in my mind, I feel like I have already lost my chance because it won't be perfect.
A lot of the decisions I've made in the past months or so, I have felt this way. I keep wanting to give up, because it's obvious that I haven't reached that perfection that I have longed for, but I keep hanging on because I have to. If I don't, then I'm panicing at the last minute, wondering if I got an A- or a B+... if I don't hang on, I'm nothing. But if I'm just hanging out, what the fuck is the point? Hanging on doesn't mean shit! I have to either get out of the deep shit I'm in, or let go... because sooner or later I have to let go... it's impossible to hang on forever.
I said that I was going to an out of state college after I graduated because I wanted to get away from everybody. The truth is, I'm just a scardy-cat. I'll always be a scardy-cat. What I really want to do is run away. Isn't that what everybody wants? I often think back to the life I used to have and I see all these negative things about it, but yet I want to go back because I also saw so much happiness. I didn't used to be bitter and cynical... I didn't used to be level-headed. I didn't used to starve for perfection. I was happy, and I was normal. I made people laugh and have a good time. School was easy and I had a boyfriend and... I was just so dang happy. And then high school started and everything was taken from me bit by bit. And I wonder why I took it all for granted. I wonder why I never saw all of that. I wonder why, all of a sudden, that image of myself is so clear now. And I understand so well that those moments will never come back. And I wonder if my life will be an array of flashbooks with my missing the way I previously was. Will I, in 5 years, turn out more bitter and cynical than I am now? Will I be as hopeless as I am now? What would I think of myself thinking about the past? Is it possible that at one point in my life... that I will miss this stupid second of my meaningless life?
And then I wonder why I said all these things just know. Does knowing anything about myself help me with anything? I know that I want my fucking perfection, but it doesn't change crap. I'm still just hanging in there. I haven't climbed out of my shit position... and if I don't, I'll still fall. I just wish that somebody could be there to help me out. I wish someone would just give me a hand, but nobody can understand you like that... Nobody understands me like that. I gave a piece of myself to so many people and they all have left me. I want to explain to someone so badly. I really wished that I had that shoulder that I could cry on, but no matter how loudly I scream and shout, the bottomless pit seems to suck me in more... and the only sound I hear is the hollow reflection of my own words echoing in my ear, and even though at one point the hole didn't seem so big, the echoing of my voice, somehow made it 10 times worse, 10 times bigger. And then I really wonder whether I should ask for help or not... and if I did and someone responded, would they leave me after helping me for a short while? Do I really want to climb out of the hole, if I knew that the person helping me would leave me during the middle of the way? Would I be able to continue on, even with that betrayal? Is it worth the risk to open up to someone that way? Or am I leading myself to a bigger hole, one that I could fall deeper into than I have ever fallen before? And if I did, how would I be able to pick up the pieces this time?
Sometimes I think that if I had suffered a little more in my childhood, I would've dealt with my pain better. Somehow when I was young, I didn't understand what it meant to have an arguement, what it meant be lonely, what it meant to lose a friend, what it meant to love and hate, what it meant to be jealous... but the truth is, I had experienced all that... My parents used to bicker every night before I slept. I changed elementry schools every year so I only had one real friend, and when we moved away from each other (I went South and she went North), I should've been sad... And I think what happened is that all that loss was built up inside me and I never felt a moment of it... I wonder if, as a child I was a lot smarter than I give myself credit for. I wonder sometimes if I purposely block out all these feelings so I wouldn't have to deal with them, and I wonder if all these feelings have finally caught up to me and I got lost in my own game. I say this because the first bad thing that happened was my parent's arguing. My mom said that as I kid, I'd smile all the time, and once the fighting began, I stopped smiling so much and now, I never smile at home. I wonder if somehow I really did knew what aruging meant... maybe it was THAT detrimental to me, but I wouldn't let it affect me, my thoughts... and I wouldn't let it provoke any sadness. But then I felt everything all at once. I was only depressed for about 3 months after it all happened. Now, I wonder if that was long enough. I wonder if I will truly ever be over it all. And I guess, I wish that that's where the scar ended, but it's so much deeper and so much longer than that. And as much as I try, I don't think I have ever closed my wound... and the thing is, I don't think I have the tools to close it... and I don't know who does.
I want to share so much, but I always hold back. I'm still so wary about sharing myself. If I gave another piece of my heart out, what would you do with it? Someone once told me that I wore my heart on my sleeves and I asked her what I meant. She said that I show my emotions to everyone. I guess the reason is because I want to share. I want to contribute... but I don't know who wants to listen. Do you want to listen? And if you heard what I had to say, how would you take it? Would you think I was weak or strong? Would you pity me or reprimend me? Would you see faults in my decisions that I know I made? Would you support me or run away? Would you think I'm deep or just crazy? Would you think I made this all up? Would you ever think of me the same? I'm not so sure I would.
posted by Rukia @ 11:11 PM
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