Saturday, February 26, 2011

Untitled...and unending

I just feel...so sad. But I don't have the strength to write. Been working so hard. On the job searching, making sure it's all accurate on the form for UC. I need more time. I write articles every week. Started as 3 a week...then 2. Now just on Fridays. Saturday this week. So tired. Updating my Blue group page on FB, trying to keep up with all the news, all the action on Twitter, on 101X. I pushed myself too hard, sacrificed my health. And I paid. People probably think I'm so stupid for not eating, for complaining about being underweight. It's an "abnormal" thing, like being quiet. "Just talk"...now "Just eat". As if food is the problem, as if my voice was the problem. It's about confidence...and now control. Not an eating disorder -- I don't fit that profile because it's not a body image issue. I don't want to be skinny, never did. But always was. It's genetics. And when I lose my appetite...due to meds or stress or not taking breaks, it's my way to self-harm. My punishment, stress eating me alive -- literally. Do you know what that feels like? Not just hunger. A deep pain, aches, shakes, my body suffers. I let it happen. Because...I need pain. I don't know how to be happy. It doesn't feel familiar and I can never stay there. I never stay up.

I keep reading about Bipolar and wondering if I'm slightly manic. I know the terms, the different types, but I'm too tired to focus that much. I'm not manic. I overwork, I push too hard -- myself and others. I just see so much ahead, so much that can be...and I have the drive to make it happen. I don't care about myself to stop achieving my goals. I need to have a purpose, I need to be productive. I never let sickness or depression or pain stop me before. And I passed out at work, I threw up in drawing class, I had breakdowns in meetings. I don't want to be like that anymore. Control. So much control. I need it. I need to be in control now. Let no one tell me how to be...or not be.

God, I'm just so frustrated. With myself, with the world, with life. I'm tired of words. I'm tired of people not following through on what they say. I'm alone. Is there anything more than what's going on now that proves that? They all want to meet me, hang out with me. But...not now? I'm giving freely...take it. I'm asking for too much. I want the kind of friend that I am. Always there, no matter what. Being there even if I don't want to, if I have my own problems. Because they need me...just to be there. I'm sick of being that friend. Because I'm not allowed to expect it from anyone else. It's so wonderful that I'm the way I am, right? They all say. But why do they deserve to be treated like that...why do they deserve my loyalty and time and kindness. Who really deserves my love? I give my all. The whole thing. But all I get back are pieces. There are conditions, limits. Priorities...and I'm just not. I know. I know this. It's always been like this, since I was a kid. I know that "that" isn't my life, I'm not "that" girl. I'm just not. And all the nice words don't prove that I matter enough. That I'm special enough. That I'm worth the time, the sacrifice. That I might need to come first.

I have to let go of this. This idea that I can be like them, that I can have what other people have -- the simple things. I don't need much...but what I need is too much. And I'm tired of the words. I'm tired of letting my guard down and believing, expecting. Hope. I can't give up hope, but I have to turn away. I have to accept my place. How I hate that phrase. But I do have a place...and I've been fighting it forever...wishing on stupid stars, praying. Prayers are ok. As long as I pray for others or pray for my own protection, safety. I have to do my duties. What I was created for. Because there's a reason. And I've always known it. And it's not what anyone on the outside wants for me. But it's all I can give. Give. Victory of the people. That's my purpose.

I love Blue. I love the people I've met. I'm grateful to have reconnected with old friends. I'm thankful for the memories. Even the friends lost...or changed. They were friends once, they did care. But, things change. And I hurt. But that's my life too. I feel too much. One day maybe I'll get that ulcer. Right now I just have anxiety.

I can do this on my own. Live. I just don't want to. Who really wants to be alone...not just by themselves, but alone? All the friends in the world, all the family support can't cure this. I'm different...and I'm lost. I keep going and going until there's not more road left. I have nothing more than that.

I'm down. I'm tired. I want to cry.
But I can do this. I'll do the things I want. I'm capable. Doesn't mean I should have to. But I do. They're all taken away from me...not because I don't deserve it, but because I'm not supposed to have it. I'm meant for something else. More? In a different way, maybe. But not the more I want. But we don't always get what we want.

I want to go see the Parlotones next Saturday. Thank you for letting me win the contest. Two free tickets (well, 2 places on the guest list). I really want to go. I found a solution to the driving problem...to make the trip shorter. But parking? I know what the street looks like (research, maps). I'll try to remain calm. If I go. Have to see how I feel, physically and emotionally. I know I'll feel guilt if I don't go. I was given a gift and didn't use it. But I'm not obligated...and I just have to do what I need to do. I just wish things were a little bit different. A companion was all I needed. But I'm alone.

I have to pull away. That's the hardest thing to do. But I have to go back to the fire, the me in the aftermath. I want to not care anymore. I want to be mean. I want to take and not give back. Not say thank you, not go out of my way to show someone I support them, that I remember what's special to them. People do that for me. I can't say there aren't great things, great people, great moments. But it's not enough. I always need more -- too much. Why doesn't it seem like too much for me?

"Just wake up in the morning. That's all you have to do, and I'll take it from there..." Can someone love me past MY pain? No more words. Give me proof.

I'll finish watching the movie...and try to wind down. My body wants to move but my mind is tired. My back hurts, my legs hurt. I do a lot. More than people see. I'm not lazy, I'm not weak. I'm just now where I want to be. Is this where I should be? I suppose. If you believe in that. I believe in a lot of things. Miracles, true love, angels, ghosts. But I also see the evil, the cruelness, the lies. And I hate living in a world like that. It's getting harder. Every day it gets harder...because time marches on. Who knew I'd ever get here? This old? But I did. I'm protected. I'm necessary...for purposes. I just have to live with that. Acceptance. As much as I hate it. And I'll keep going until I don't.

I'm tired. And I'll regret this. I want to cry every night because I open myself, give myself, the words come out of me. I have to replenish. Night's are so hard...

I'll go on.


*No edit*

Saturday, February 12, 2011

It's not you, it's me

"Experience is what you get when you don't get what you want." - Dan Stanford

"Well-behaved women rarely make history." - Laurel Thatcher Ulrich


Today can be considered an "up" day, I suppose. It didn't start off that way...restless sleep as usual, worries, thoughts, guilt, hurt. But I'm trying to look at things from a different perspective. It's hard. Hard to train myself to go against the way I've always been, break old habits. I feel like I'm fighting against myself -- the me inside is trying to drag the other me back to safety. Because "down" is safe and comfortable and familiar (see my poem "Home").

But the meds keep me balanced...in that middle place. And I'm too stubborn to stay down for long, too ambitious not to want to improve and succeed. Too much of a workaholic to sit still. And too much of a perfectionist to be satisfied with life as it is. I have issues...yes, no secret. I have insecurities and fears and thoughts that would seem scary or absurd to others. But I also have hopes and dreams and see the good in the world, the beauty in the little things. I probably said before -- it's so easy to make me happy, so easy to make me smile. But because I'm so sensitive, it's also very easy to hurt me. I have intense emotions and I can't be casual about things. I care very deeply, very quickly. And like most artistic people, if I create something, it's like my child. It's a part of me. And to destroy that or criticize it or reject it, or take it away is like cutting off my arm. It wounds me. People don't understand why I get so upset or frustrated when no one pays attention to the work I do or the things I post. It's because I'm putting myself out there -- what I'm posting, my words, my research, my art, my beliefs, whatever -- it's ME. So if you ignore it, you're ignoring ME. If you take it and don't give back, you took a part of ME and I'm left empty. Maybe that sounds dramatic. Maybe people think I'm always complaining, or blaming others. I'm not. I'm just venting my frustrations. And speaking from my heart. So it's all emotions and pain and questions and confusion. It comes out the way it comes out. If I'm mad at a person, they'll know it. If I'm mad at a situation...then it gets convoluted into an emotional rant.

I don't understand people...I'm not a people person. I get annoyed so easily, frustrated so easily, disappointed so easily. And a lot of it is because they don't understand me either. I know there are those who think I'm strange, odd, intimidating. Crazy. I've been called names, seen the looks. And still, I give people chances...I ignore the signs or hope things will change. I'm seeking approval. Longing for acknowledgement for the things I've done. I need constant validation and encouragement. It makes me feel weak. I don't want to be needy or codependent. I don't want to fall in love with people who can't or won't love me. I don't want to rely on a friendship that isn't real. Or realize that they matter to me more than I matter to them, even if they do care. I'm finding it hard to trust. I've been broken too much. And most of it, most of the "lessons" have happened in the past 3 years. Because I changed. I got "better"...to a degree. I spoke out more, found confidence in myself, took chances. I messed up. I feel like I can't go back and fix things. I hurt people. But I know it's not all my fault. Self-blame. Low self-esteem.

I'm human...and I can't accept it. I can't accept making mistakes, I can't accept hurting someone's feelings or disagreeing with them. I can't accept having mean thoughts about someone or feeling jealous. It feels wrong to me. It makes me a bad person...that's how I think. But I know it's normal. I was just always the good girl, the nice girl, the sweet friendly quiet girl. I let people run all over me, use me, abuse me. That stubborn streak did come out, the emotional outbursts when I had enough. But for the most part, I was nice. And I had so much pain inside. I've learned and grown, so I know how to fix myself or try a different way. I don't let everyone take over me anymore. But I'm still too giving. Friends say that it's a good way to be -- the reliable one, good listener, always there to help. Loving heart. I suppose. But I feel like I'm missing out. Because people tell me not to expect to get that back from anyone else. Not to expect everyone to be so loving and giving, not to take things personally. But...then why expect it from me? Am I not entitled to have it too? To have people in my life who love me as much as I love them...or be there for me when I need them? Contradictions. My life is full of them.

But I have to move on. I know enough to know who to trust. And to know that even that trust could be broken in a snap. It's not a good world. It's not a good life -- being human. I feel like I don't fit here, that I'm not made for this world. Besides the mental/emotional struggles, I just feel like things are going to get worse, not better. We just live this life and do what we can, take what we can, enjoy what we can. No matter how much you achieve, you're still HERE. Maybe a pessimistic view. But can anyone argue that the world is a safe, peaceful place? People hurt each other on purpose...and enjoy it. They revel in the pain and fear of others. When I fail, there's someone there who feels a twinge of joy. When I'm criticized or put down, there's someone there thinking that I deserved it. I hate that. But I see it now. And it just is.

But there are also people who make my life worth living. Who admire me and count on me and appreciate me more than I deserve. I'm not a saint or an angel or wonderful or amazing. I'm just me. I do good, I work hard, I love, I help, I protect. But to me, that's what a person is supposed to do...that's normal. But it's not really, is it? I have a hard time seeing the world outside of my focus. Seeing things from the other side. Because I can't FEEL it...and for me to understand something, I have to feel. Others don't feel what I feel, don't connect the same way, so there lies the disagreements, the misunderstandings. But if you care enough, if the relationship is worth enough, you'll work to make it better...to make it through. I believe in that.

I just needed to write, to vent, to express myself. I'm not hurting. I am a little sad though. Still feeling inferior and that nothing I do will be quite good enough. Because there's always someone better. I just want to be equal. I don't want to take anything away from someone...I can be happy for them even when I feel a loss or left out. I got through weddings, I got through births. I don't have those things and I deal with it. But I want those things too. TOO. Not what someone else has, but my own. My place. I want to be special and accepted and acknowledged for what I do, for who I am. I don't want to be overlooked, I don't want to be looked down on, or avoided. I'm not crazy...I have depression and anxiety. I'm not dangerous...I come on too strong sometimes, when something really matters, but I'm a reserved person and I believe in boundaries. I don't like to hurt people...but sometimes I get mad or defensive or make the wrong choice. Don't you? Please don't think the worst of me, please don't hate me for what I do. Learn about me, talk to me, ask me who I am, why I do what I do. Why I feel.

If you're in my life, you matter. I care.

I'm proud of my accomplishments. I'm proud to be a good person. I don't lie. I want everyone to be happy and I would sacrifice myself to make that happen. But I have to stop giving myself away. It's not worth it anymore. I have to take more...even if that's just taking time away from those who love me. Taking time to take care of myself. I may never love myself or love where I am in my life...because I know I can do better, be better. Things are always changing. I say I hate change, but really I mean the changes I can't control. The ones that happen that I'm not prepared for...or don't want. That quick punch in the stomach, that ice cold fear when all the blood drains from your face, the needle in your chest when you lose something important. But the changes that I make for myself, those I need. I'm always improving and I love to learn, love to create new things. And my heart is so big, there's always room for more.

So just...let me be who I am. Right or wrong, weak or strong, good or bad. But I need you...I need you to be good enough for me. I need you to try and fight and work hard...as hard as I do. I need equality and security and companionship and I need to be needed. It was nice to be counted on, to be looked at, to have people trust that I would give them the information they wanted. It was nice to feel that again. I didn't realize how long I had been without it. Will I have it again? I don't know. Will I talk to the friend I'm missing again? I don't know. Will "they" ever appreciate how much I do for them? I don't know. They don't belong to me...and I don't have the right to take their time or attention. It hurts when others get those things and I don't. Sorry. But I have to accept my feelings. It's ok to feel that way. When you put your heart into everything you do, it constantly gets bruised and battered...passed around and played with...broken. But I pick up the pieces and try again. No one can say I'm not persistent. And maybe some resent me for that. Because they can't do it. Because they don't have my drive or talent or strength or whatever. But don't put me down to lift yourself up. Do good in your own life. Just because you have more or you haven't been through what I've been through, it doesn't make you better than me or more important. If you want to be better than someone, become better -- for yourself. Don't beat them down. Isn't that what cheaters do? I can't help being competitive or wanting to be first or needing approval. But I can stop expecting it and realize that I just have to follow my own path and do what needs to be done. Even if I'm the only one there. Even if I'm the only one who knows or cares. It may not be enough, but it's the best I can do. And my best has to be enough now.

There's some comfort in knowing that I'll always have the memories of what was. I can appreciate those moments...they satisfy me. I don't really need so much. And I also had the best that I could get, the best achievement in the world: my parents both said they were proud of me. For different things, at different times, but they said it. They believe it. They believe in me. What else is there? I believe in me too. And I believe in my friends and family...I believe in strangers. I really do care about the whole world. I just don't feel a part of it. But maybe THAT's my place...