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skating on thin ice... (thoughts, journal, experiences, etc.) 08.05.03 i'm supposed to be good at this, i'm supposed to know myself, but sometimes my own stupidity astounds even me. my goddamn reasoning over-ridden by the emotional aspects of being socially inept, i can't seem to cross that border anymore from knowing what i want to do and getting it... not when it comes to people, not when it comes to trust/love. i take whatever comes my way, whomever is willing to accept my flaws then i chastise them for taking advantage of me, but i should be keeping a better lookout in the first place for the takers and cutting myself from them. but the givers, the unselfish, what do i have to offer them if i can't trust readily enough. who will give me a chance, get to know me? who's got that kind of goddamn time, honestly? and i could cease dealings with the takers, and i try, i vow to find inspiring people for my life but then: "what do i have to inspire them back with?" ..but it seems with these takers, no matter how hard i simply try to speak, they still don't hear, i know maybe i don't talk loud enough but that's just not me.. and i can't be the only one.. but somehow the sound of their own voice is the only one forever resounding in their ears. and i long for fucking human beings but all i see are robots. and the humans, they are blind, blind to me and how much i need them... depressing, fucking depressing. 07.19.03 after a stay in the hospital and all sorts of doctors/shots/trouble-shooting/itching/medicines/assorted nonsense, it's now been realized that after 23 years of relatively good health my biological makeup has changed and my body has decided it is now severely allergic to cats and dust. (so much so i couldn't go home after getting out of the hospital; i had to be quarantined in a Van Gogh-style room until i got my body stabilized and the room at my house torn apart and cleaned and made cat-free.) it was most certainly an intriguing experience, though. it made me realize a good many things; like how lucky i am to be given a second chance (or is it third? fourth?) at family-style living and the serenity/ease of mind that goes along with it, when the knowledge of having a secure place to live can cancel out so many anxieties and give you the option of then moving forward. so with my own "survival" no longer the task at hand, i'm itching to get going on being the scholarly type school-going girl i've so longed to start accomplishing. there's a college fair coming up i hope to be able to attend. Journalism will be my subject of emphasis, wherever i get into. i hope to be somewhere by the Spring. i've a beautiful car now to complete the equation. Colleen loaned me the money which i will pay back in monthly installments. it should last me for at least a few years, probably longer. that's so much a heavy worry lifted, to know i can do everything i need to, work as much as i can (reliably and on time) and always get to school when the time comes. yes, everything has fallen so fantastically into a panaromic, perfectly orchestrated display. it's "pinch me i'm dreaming" wonderful. there's not too many people on this ride with me, and that's too bad, but i just gotta keep on trickety truckin down my enchanting path, and continue to walk with those that inspire and lift me along the way. no room in the equation for anything else, this is my opportunity to prove the obstacles incorrect and emerge with beauty and strength and grace. one day, this past mid-april i left the box that had formed around me, masquerading as my life and future. there was no path in front of me, no picture to reach for, only road. only singular steps. but i always knew it was right, i always knew it would pay off to stop being stagnant and miserable and surrounded with hate and negativity, and make a drastic change that was hard, hard as nails, but so many things gave me hope it would only be temporary, among them: getting in the car that morning and flipping on the radio, to hear james taylor's "fire and rain" (if that's not an omen i don't know what is, damn), my brother who goes thru so much similar shit and still always stays strong and gracious and appreciative, my friends always ready with the hugs and boozin and listening ears, and the reality of remembering everything else i had been thru in my life and the things that were so much much worse (i.e. my mother's death)-- but i survived those, hell yes, and all those things are what gave me so much integrity and perspective and growth a million times more rapid than the average bear. big ups to me and all this grandiosity, loveliness is afoot! 06.18.03 //...and i came upon a doctor, who appeared in quite poor health. i said, "there's nothing i can do for you, you can't do for yourself." he said, "oh yes you can, just hold my hand, i think that that would help." so i sat with him awhile, and asked him how he felt. he said, "i think i'm cured. and in fact, i'm sure of it. thank you, stranger. for your therapeutic smile."|| (bright eyes) _______________________________________________ i should have caught onto this reasoning quicker. emotions have always affected my skin, in one way or another. in an obvious uncontrollable sense, i've got the pale sensitive type that blushes horribly every time emotion runs thru my body in the form of embarassment, anger, fear, or passion. i always bruised easily. hit me kiddingly in the arm, i'll wake up tomorrow with a mark. and then in the highly controllable sense: i used to take out my emotions on my skin-- the ones that weren't visible on it otherwise. when i was sad, frustrated, repressed, dissapointed, unsure, self-hating, i'd take a razor.. watch those seep out of me.. on my arms, legs, wrists, calves (that was mostly a teenage thing; i decided later perhaps it wasn't healthy). and then there was the "body modification" phase i went thru. i was interested with all forms of reinventing the skin you were in, in a physical way. i used to have several piercings. (i ended up taking all but ears and my tongue out for different reasons.) i started calling my cutting "scarification", and started making pictures instead of simple lines and strokes. i've still got a decently-faded butterfly design on my calf. and my ex will always have the angel i did, on his forearm, unfortunately. i read about skin implants, and suspension. (neither of which i had the means or opportunity to do, but i sure thought i wanted to.) i stretched my ears from 18g to where they're at now, 1/2 inch. this was when i wasn't even going to shows or involved in the "scene" bullshit. it was simply the concept of it that intrigued me-- the idea of completely changing something about yourself, so gradually (it took me 6 months to do). i liked having to let each step heal for two weeks. it was a process physically reflective of what i was going thru at the time: growing, changing, modifying myself inside as well. and lastly, tatoos. i never did get one, for lack of funding. if i was rich i'd probably be covered in them right now. that's the only body ritual i'm still fascinated by, and still want to explore. i love the idea of pictures on your skin that form stories of your life. that's a goal i will work on, someday. after i left collin's in April, i felt free, relieved, almost weightless. i was living in my car but was claiming left and right not to care. but after a couple weeks reality began to set in. i found this place to stay, where i'm at now, but i started getting horribly uneasy. all this paranoia/over-thinking set in, about my future, about how long i could stay here, about whether or not i'd be able to rebuild my life. i started feeling uncomfortable in my own skin again, my spirit started fading, all my friends were around me but i felt like a stranger among them, like i couldn't relate to them/talk to them. then my car died. and my brother wouldn't give me a straight answer about our plans for an apartment. and i kept second-guessing myself about whether or not i made the right decision about leaving Rutland. and then i'd think about all those nights crying, all the words, all the using for sex when i cared, goddamnit i cared and i tried, and nothing was ever good enough, always it was: well you made this mistake one time. or you did this one time. so everything i ever do to you forever, you deserve, it'll always be justified no matter what. i'd have to just keep reminding myself of that last night there and all the ones preceding it, and the moment of clarity i had the following morning as i was packing my "necessities" into my car, and i opened up my journal from last year to an entry chronicling how unhappy i was, how desperate, how sad, how hurt by everything and how badly i just wanted to get out of it. and i smiled and hit the road. with no plan, no course of action but to just get the fuck out. i got horribly sick, thought i had mono. turns out i didn't, they ran tests and said i was healthy. told me i was just stressed out, really over-exhausted, get some rest, take care of myself. so i heeded their advice, slept well for a week and physically felt better. but the weird thing was, i had this itchy rash intermittently on various parts of my body, that refused to go away. it developed right around the time i got ill, but even after i repaired my tiredness it still lingered. i thought it was an allergic reaction to something here in my new environment, i was convinced of this in fact, so i got some meds from the doc and thought it would be overwith. but sure enough, the meds ran out then it came back. then i started noticing weird patterns: like i slept at Amie's house on two occassions, and it was really bad the following morning both of those times. so i concluded it couldn't be something environment-related. and then i made an extra point to keep a close eye on the possibility that it could be anxiety-related, since i did get sick from stress the month earlier. and i realized, whenever something was bugging me, it got worse like clockwork. i had to get some shit from collin's-- i got huge patches of red dots on my arms. i was thinking about loneliness or my future or being pressured by friends or whatever-- i woke up the next morning covered in red. so this was in my considerations. then my next thought was, but why would my anxiety be coming out on my SKIN? why that particular outlet? and i was partying and i saw a kid i used to date. and he touched my neck, just kidding around, and it turned horribly red and rash-like and itchy where he touched me and wouldn't go away for the rest of the evening. and i realized: this was my sub-conscious' choice, because this was my way of keeping people at bay. this was my way of preventing people from touching me, i was so scared of being hurt after everything with collin, this is why it took form on my skin. to try to push away people. i read somewhere about somatization of emotions, and dermatological conditions associated with emotions, and it said something like, "you're physically screaming for someone to love you. that's why it happens." so now it makes perfect sense to me. i wanted to be close to people, but not for sexual things, not for physical stuff which brought back too many hurtful memories- it's gonna still be awhile yet before i can entirely trust someone for that- but just for people to genuinely care. so my sub-conscious cooked up this scheme to keep people at arm's length, while still being able to be friends with them on an emotional level. i'm happy to report, my rash is no longer in effect. i'm glad i'm so over-analytical, and can fix things in a timely manner. now i can move on with my life. sighhh.. i am emotionally ready for a new relationship. it would be neat if i didn't have these underlying physical insecurities now, that may take awhile to diminish completely... trust is such a complicated life factor... 03.21.03 today was the first day of spring. that really is terrific, i love the warm weather/flowers and all of that to an immense degree. i put on my new pink/light green 70's flowered shirt, made myself look all pretty-like and hit the road. but the more i drove around aimlessly the lonelier i felt. because i've been doing this for days. i tried calling frank, brian, and amie before i left. but none of them answered their phones. i stopped at a thrift store but didn't find anything cool. stopped at miraculous creations and looked at tatoo designs, then remembered i can't afford anything. i somehow ended up at hope cemetary again even though i was just there a few days ago. i wanted to drop by my sister's house unannounced. her road is literally across the street from the cemetary. but i couldn't bring myself to do it. i've found i can't talk to anyone anymore beyond an impersonal basis. i mean, i can have conversations with people. but if i really have something on my mind all i can do is write. i write of it in my livejournal or something, but even then i can feel that someone on the other end that may read it is probably sighing and telling me to shut up. i bought a card the other day with the specific purpose of writing cindy shea (my old foster mother) a little note, asking if we could go out for lunch or something sometime. and i don't even have the nerve to do that. because all i can think now is, what do i have to offer? i can't even hang out with my friends without thinking, i'm not being fun enough. i'm not being enjoyable enough. they shouldn't even be around me. i don't feel like anyone really knows me... not really. collin knows me but we have too rich of a painful history to get beyond that anymore and be friends again. i love being around my brother so much because he really understands how i feel and is able to forgive me for being despondent at times, or a little weird about certain things. because he goes thru the motions of trying to maintain normalcy also, all the while knowing we have lived a life nobody really knows we have lived.... i know that doesn't matter in the long run. i know i am not the sum of my past, i have moved beyond all that a great deal. i have grieved for my losses, i have gotten over the death of my parents, i have moved on from all the hurt, anger, abuse everything that lurks there within my sub-conscious i have fought against. i take each day and grasp the future, not dwell anymore on things gone by though it may seem otherwise. i bring these things up because, all i really want is for someone to understand. or to try to. or to ask. or to care enough to want to know why i am afraid of certain things, like physical contact and "i love yous" even though those are the very things i want most in the universe. when i finally feel like someone's asking the right questions, then i'm able to accept those things i am afraid of. and then i stop worrying. i'm just sick of being lonely. but by the same token i can't stand to have surface relationships anymore. so it's a double-edged sword. i want to find myself a group of friends and people that really care about life, experiences, growth, love, trust and everything beautiful. but i look around and everyone is just too self-absorbed to ever bother. but maybe that is what i should consider myself also? self-absorbed? because i keep thinking about how i need to change, how i can improve upon things, what portions of my personality i need to work on, etc. etc. etc.? i just keep thinking if i fix myself enough then sooner or later people will come into my life that will then really want to get to know me. and not just get annoyed anytime i need to vent or bring something up that's depressing. i wish it would go away. i wish i never felt sad. i wish i could forget. i wish i never felt the need to write it down, when i am sad. but that's the only way i know how to cope with things. I'M SORRY. i wish i could be normal and not think about things all the time, always trying to find solutions to this way i can never seem to fit in, even among the people i love the most. i give up. 02.18.03 so everything is resting on the horizon for me. (yup, i'm always ready with a cliche relating to my life.) see here's the lowdown: car on thursday. possible 87 golf. oh, who cares what it is. point being: freedom. soon to follow, apartment with my brother (prob. in about a month, sooner if i'm lucky). point being: FREEDOM. how long can you hear biting phrases containing words such as "burden", "bitch", and "leave" in reference to you before you start to let them filter into your esteem? not long. i've grown to believe everyone whom i choose to love as gold turns to retreat, can't handle the intensity, can't.. what? love me? why not me? i don't know. but i find my thoughts wandering back to andrew whom was the only one willing to stick around, at one time. oh, i screwed that up. i was too unaware of my own subconscious defenses. and now i know that was for the best, even done the wrong way it was, but our paths are too opposite to coincide correctly. but it's a comfort in the midst of all these conditionalities i face with people, to know i once had something true, and i will again. i refuse to believe i'm not more than a sum of words someone i trusted and loved as family aims at me with the utmost resentment. regardless, i'm moving on. with a fist of regrets, in that i couldn't nuetralize your anger (my biggest disappointment). i admit i'm scared to death. not of change, not of moving, not of all this hard work... but that things won't change for some reason. they're so close, i can feel them in my bones. somehow i can't let myself believe these hopes until i see them... until i'm sitting in MY new apartment, with MY family (my brother and my kitty beside me) and my car sitting outside. i want to feel relieved, i want to look forward but i find myself holding back from getting too anxious, because i've found in the past i will just set myself up for dissapointment. i can't afford to be dissapointed this time. i've worked too hard, i've grown too much to let this one slip. i have to work this all out. my head is a-spin of all the bills i can't get atop of, i keep scheming in my head what i will pay, what i will put off, where can i get a second job, how much can i afford, how soon can i get out of here before my spirit takes too much of a beating (it's already been too much.. long ago.). i look at the pictures of my parents on my bedside every day. i wish they could see this. i wish they could give me some advice, anything. i wish i could still remember my mom's smile with exact replication. but too much time has passed. being around my brother is vindication on some levels. we hung out the other nite and i finally felt relieved again. i always feel like i'm seeing a picture different than everyone else... ereck says i sit around in one spot too much... he's right.. but i just find myself awash in observances sometimes, i overanalyze every perspective, every difference, every fault, every beautiful thing. i see the same quality in my brother and i wonder if it is just a product of all we have been thru or just a coincidence, maybe lots of people are like this. but i can't seem to find them. i only see myself in him. everyone else doesn't quite know how to take my being unhinged. i'm finally happy and so hopeful and i'm terrified to let this happiness settle underneath my skin. i can't remember ever feeling like this. so close to everything i have wanted for so long, but was so beyond reach i just gave up so many times. how did i get here? can it really be this easy? what's the catch? where's the bullshit? YEARS i have waited to have a HOME. a comforting sanctuary. SAFETY. a place that is MINE. can it be so simple? is this really it? or is something bound to go wrong and i will be stuck in this place for a long time to come. well, i can't let that happen. THAT CANNOT HAPPEN. i'm afraid i will not be able to handle it if that happens. 02.09.03 good lord these lyrics are incredible... "Across Five Years" (Boy Sets Fire) i said i'm crazy one more time picked up the phone and wondered why so many years of hidden dreams pushed down too far to ever win locked doors and hidden ghosts denied by myself with every joke this was not this could never be me remembering so many times so many lies so many lies ran so fast the years passed blind so much time lost killing five whatever poison you may drink another list of "no's" persist antique and out of reach i lost my life and take it back crashed this side of happiness hit the floor or hit and miss without the strength to follow through walked right past this life in you just one more kiss just one more chance one more life or circumstance one more call taking a chance on circumstance "Unspoken Request" (Boy Sets Fire) failed coercion leads to intrusion and the blood forever runs in her head into her hands between her legs where his mind lies power drives him in to slaughter innocence on the rack of his devices vices and designs she will never scrub the stains from her arms from her neck from her legs the dirt will remain as a reminder of his hateful face break in rip apart the inner fibers of her soul boy you'll never know how it feels to fear the shame feel free to walk down any dark street without fear without shame no one is gonna touch you and you don't need protection she shouldn't need protection! and you can sit there with that stupid smile on your face and try to convince me that you care defined by your power defined by her body the purity she feels everybody else contains it's gone it's lost but i guess it doesn't matter anyway break in rip apart the inner fibers of her soul and you can sit there with that stupid smile on your face and try to convince me that you care defined by your power defined redefined fucked tortured and discarded and if he ever cares maybe he will feel ashamed for everything he's stolen for all the trust she gave possessed and broken she cries but it's not our problem pull down your goddamn blinds he will never think he's wrong she will never feel quite right you will never think he's wrong you will never think you're wrong she will never feel quite right. 01.30.03 somewhere in the span of an undefined amount of time, i've managed to implement changes to my psyche i thought were forever ingrained. where it all came crashing, i can't quite pinpoint. i remember the beginning; when my defenses were called to action and i then grew to recognize that i was still alive, and still strong, as previously not aware of. and somehow that realization merged into decisions, consciously made but my insecurities still in a tug-of-war as to how to bring them to light. "depression" as a whole almost seems to not exist; outsiders view it as an excuse, or as a nuisance; and insiders simply know there are forces at work in their life beyond their control, branding them with a condition, referred to by a name if only so they know it adds some type of rhyme and reason to the mix of unreality. for me, depression means an entire year and then some, spent hiding under covers, ducking behind walls, and fighting. constantly fighting. fighting is the best summarization i can think of to describe most feelings and experiences associated with depression. for me, it was everyday: fight the sadness- then fight to hold the tears, when you can't get a grip on the sadness; fight the anger- then fight the self-destruction and impulses that ensue when you're losing the anger repression battle; fight feeling in general- then fight destroying yourself when you inevitably lose the numbness facade and everything comes in an overwelming tide, simultaneously and unbearably. fighting love was the hardest part, the most conflicting battle. because in all that loneliness and isolation, when it's been months without a phone call and whoknowshowlong without a hug, you start to think love must be the missing element, the cure-all, the answer. but with every small attempt made to reach out, it becomes clear that nobody wants the burden of holding your hand while in that state. which only compounds everything all the more. weeks turn into months and suddenly life has boiled down to existing, not living. all the edges run into eachother; you don't know how exactly it progressed into this and you don't care enough to figure out when or why. it only becomes a fight to stay alive. going thru the motions of living. staring at the television catatonically, while your failures echo thru your consciousness. biding time until the day ends, sleeping one more nite, making it one more day, face painted on with expert precision and a list of your weaknesses burning a hole in your pocket. how those months turned into an entire year for me, still boggles my mind. the fact that i still can't think of anything i did besides fight, in all that time, is alarming at best. a positive in all that, however, is i did win. which is more than even i expected. if a gun fell within proximity to me during that time, i can say with total certainty the outcome would have been different. my boxes were packed and i thought i was ready to go. in the midst of all this conflict, however, someone i cared for suffered a sudden loss; therefore forcing me to reset my switches and stand up and muster the strength to help him get thru it. it seemed like a case of the blind leading the blind-- but when all was said and done, i'll never forget "i don't know how i would have made it thru this without you." that was the first in a series of choices i made from then on. as to be expected, the lines of those choices kept getting blurred, for awhile. i kept standing and falling, standing and falling. but i finally figured out that in order to change, i first needed to grow. for every beginning, an ending. and all the while, peering over my shoulder, this elusive force, this "depression" i had become accustomed to. i found out how to counter-act its elusiveness: find out the causes and effects. seems simple enough, i suppose. not quite, though. for me, the causes were unfinished business; elements from a past never truly dealt with, creating the foundation for a wall which eventually blocked the view of my future. the following months required a lot of digging and dissection, writing, venting, introspection, and honesty. it truthfully wasn't as difficult as it sounds, compared to all that previous fighting. the clearer things get little by little, the easier the strength to keep trying comes. the trick is giving yourself plenty of room to grow. and deciding not to let anything get in the way of that. the biggest challenge was re-learning how to cope with things. the old rules no longer apply-- cutting is unacceptable; suicidal feelings are not an option whenever things start to hurt; hiding under the covers solves nothing. so suddenly, you've got to learn to cry, and not be ashamed of it. to talk about things and not feel like a burden. and to not blame yourself whenever things are disappointing or painful. hard habits to break, they were. once all the hard work is done, everything seems so easy. that's the beautiful part. your spirit grows tenfold and consequentially things start falling into place. how you view everything changes completely. the perspective gained from the knowledge found in all that long-time struggle gives a feeling of weightlessness, and invincibility. currently i am in the stage after; completely terrified. i finally feel good about myself, my decisions, my life, my future. and as such i keep finding my mind wandering to that place i was a year ago, that person who looked the same as me but was completely different. i'd rather stab myself in the eye than go back to that. i worry sometimes that all i have waiting just over the horizon is an illusion, and will be pulled from under me. there's so much now that i have wanted for so long, things i'm just close enough to touch. it seems to have taken forever and the impatience factor keeps me awake at nite, keeping mental lists of how to make 100 percent certain i won't screw anything up. not now. it's too late to start over. i'm not wasting any more time. soon, things are going to turn out right, all fears aside; i know this stage will pass as well. and i've never been happier. <3 angi <3 |
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