Why does this feel so wrong? This is what I wanted right? To be a girl who stands up for herself, who goes against the crowd. I feel ashamed and ugly. My tummy hurts, and I feel like a little girl again. I need to go curl up on my bed and cry. Not just a short, panicky cry like Charlie in Perks of Being A Wallflower. I need a long, silent, I need someone cry. I was told today that I am melodramatic, depressed, and stupid while I told myself that I was superior. So when I was superior, why did the result feel so terrible? I thought I’d feel powerful, but right now I feel alone. I can see why I want to be this way. I can see why I want to be different. I felt, for lack of a better term, ugly. Not in the physical sense, but in the alone, nasty attitude sense. I know this is what I wanted, and I’ll be fine with my best friend and other acquaintances but the feeling of being utterly ditched still stings and leaves a lingering disappointment I had not anticipated. But I guess this is the price I pay isn’t it? This is different, so I should be happy. But I’ve never hated myself more than in this moment.
The idea of love is sometimes manipulated into command and dominion over another human being. The idea of submission in a relationship is to do what the other person says with no hesitation-to bow down to them. The definition of submission is to give over to the power or authority of another. If that’s what submission is, I wouldn’t dare. I was once told a story about a girl who loved this boy. Whatever he said, she’d do because of a three word promise manipulated into a life time imprissonment.
“If you love me, you’ll do this.”
So she always did. He ended up robbing a bank, and the cops were chasing them, and she told him to stop and he told her to take the wheel, and then he shot himself so that he wouldn’t have to go to jail. She screamed and cried, and while he rested in peace, she served in jail for him. All because he said he loved her.
When does one die? While this question seems both simple and obvious, take a deeper thought. Do you die when people stop saying your name? “Heroes get remembered, but legends never die. Follow your heart kid, and you’ll never go wrong.” says Babe Ruth in the 1993 movie The Sandlot. The statement (legends never die) is physically impossible, but mentally it has a ring of truth. Columbus will never die–he will always be the person who (re)discovered North America. No one can take that away or argue that fact; no one can go back and change it. To live ones life saying that one wants to be immortal and never die is stupid. However, to say that one wants to make something of ones self, to be something and somebody, to have a dream and plan to get it–that is honorable, and if carried out, makes one a legend.
I find it funny that we once were best friends. That you said forever and always, and I said that I didn’t believe you. But I lied because I believed every string of fallacy you threw my way and grasped onto that idea of Us, forever best friends, Us against the world. But little Us couldn’t make it over the hill of your problems. Us would have to take the fall for you, make the sacrifice, be crucified all in the name of your undying desire for affection. I tried. I tried to be enough for you, not once but twice. How can it be that whatever I, not her, not the other girls who hurt you, but me, the one who was there for you and comforted you, is the one who gets left behind? I loved you. Not in a romantic sense, but in a I’ll be your rock, and I expect you to be the same sense. A friendship you claimed to believe in. You turned your back on me and your belief and now your nothing but a hypocrite and a user. You burned me up and used me for firewood on your alter of girls who weren’t what you wanted. I may say it’s funny, and I may say I don’t care. But I expect you to know the truth. I don’t want anything from you. I just need you to know that it’s not funny. You aren’t cool, righteous, or capable of a shred of loyalty or truth. You’re a loser who used me and left me twice. I’m stupid for letting it happen twice, but your the jerk who did it, claimed he wouldn’t again, and did. I don’t need anything except your grasp of the fact that I hope you one day meet a girl who doesn’t take that kind of treatment, who sees through all of your false statements, and tells you just how much of a jerk you are.
I wish I could be her, but I don’t care enough to.
The reason why people fall in love, follow a religion, or fight back is that people in general are searching for a purpose. Purpose: the reason for which something exists. The reason we are made is up to us. Do you want to grow up, go to college, get a job and spouse, kids, and then die? Is that really all you want? There is SO much more than that. The beauty of the world is breath-taking if people would just experience it. Look at the sunset and the beautiful aray of colors. See the tiny butterflies and their beauty, remembering how finite their lives are. Focusing so much on yourself and where you’re going or what you’ll do next is selfish and narrow minded. Think about this: every person you see at the store, on the subway, or on the street has a story, a past they haven’t shared, a secret kept hidden away. Just hustling and bustling by and not taking the time to know people or the world is worthless. Are you living or existing?
Think about it.
People are more and more beginning to wear less and less. The most fashionable clothes have less material and more dips toward the chest. Sex is nothing but a physical activity after (or in some cases during) a party, or a night at the bar. Yet people act as if it is the most important thing that humans do. But let’s think about it. Sex is done by lots of things other than humans, even disgusting things like slugs. If slugs are doing sex and making it the climax of their life, why on earth would we, humans, the clearly dominant of the two, do the same and call it love? Love is to be special and meaningful. Love is waking up to a two am phone call without grumbling. Love is talking into the night, knowing you’ll suffer consequences but it was worth it for the time spent together. Love is kissing slowly with linguring questions on your lips rather than quick, passionate impulses. Love is an old couple sitting on a porch in rocking chairs silently, side by side til the end. Love is falling for someone even when they have nothing to offer you, because it doesn’t matter. Love is listening to the words coming out of a person’s mind, absorbing every thought and fact and remembering them, counting them as more important then yourself. Love is dying for someone. That’s what is important-not sex. I’m not saying stay a virgin for the rest of your life. Sex is great, there is no denying that. All I’m saying is do that with someone you love, not lust. Because the truth is, being naked is showing someone your soul, sharing your thoughts, fears, failures, future plans, hopes and dreams. Find someone who you can truly be naked with.
When I was little, even now, I had an almost innate desire for water. My favorite movie was The Little Mermaid, going to the lake was a trip to heaven, and bath time lasted hours. I always loved things associated with the ocean also. In the Titanic the saddest part of the movie was the most memorable due to the water surrounding them, and perhaps that was the first time I realized water isn’t always a good thing.
They say depression is like drowning, only you watch everyone around you breathing. Drowning is almost beautiful, if you look at someone right about to rise to the surface and realize how simple it would be to never come back up, to remain in the water and breathe your last. The key though, is almost. The cruel reality of death hits quite suddenly and all you need is air. Clawing and clinging and grasping for that one breath takes every ounce of energy in your body. The climax of your life is in that moment, and it feels like you are born for the first time with that first breath above the surface, and the rest has passed away. Maybe that’s why the illistration for Christianity is baptism.
Depression is mind blowing in a literal sense. As the example of water above implies, you feel alone. Rose said it best in the Titanic when she said “I feel like I’m standing in the middle of a crowded room screaming at the top of my lungs and no one even stands up.” How breath takingly devestating! No one even wants to recognize your sadness because they are afraid of it. People try out stupidity and say they understand, and everything will be alright. I want to scream at them “LIES. You don’t even know me, let alone understand me; no one does. Everyone who has ever uttered the three worded curse to me has left. I am completely alone. I’m unable to enjoy your company because I’m waiting for your impending departure.” I whisper instead thank you, and walk away with a smile; more accurately a grimace-I’ve forgotten what a genuine smile looks like.
Many people say love is what is most needed by people. But to me, recognition is so much more desired. People are remembered when recognized in the navy, loved and respected when brought to attention. The shadow creatures are forgotten and left to fend for themselves. I wish this wasn’t how it was, but it is. I’ve broken my own soul in pieces because I shared my feelings, dreams, and secrets with each of the supposed faces composed of trust. I didn’t realize that I was talking to a superficial mask: a liar, self-protector, and a stealer of my love. I’ve said it before, but I don’t want to fall in love, because it turns out that no one ever catches me. I’m just one of those people everyone enjoys leaving; I guess my job is to be the jester, entertainer of others at my own expense, clothed in self hatred, even though I never signed up for any of this.
I’d rather drown in the sea then continue to be me for your enjoyment and use.
So leave me be.
And that’s the thing about people who mean everything they say. They think everybody else does too.
It was hard to be honest, to open up, and reveal something that sounded crazy. Because once you told someone the truth, that person had a piece of you-and they could belittle it, destroy it. They could turn your confession into a wound that never healed.
“What’s depression like?” he whispered. “It’s like drowning. Except you can see everyone around you breathing.”
Silly girl. What made you think the boy who doesn’t care about anything would care about you?
I think I am just one of those people no one thinks twice about leaving behind.
Life is too short to live with regrets; love the people who treat you right and forget the ones who don’t.
The best thing about a picture is that it never changes, even when the people do.
She was like the moon-part of her was always hidden away.
Sometimes you have to accept that some people only enter your life as a temporary happiness.
All of these quotes or sayings talk about trust or lack of it in some way. I have always been explicit in my talk-not cussing necissarily, but honest and too truthful no matter who it is. I realize the lack of self control and the greatness of my folly… I should keep certain things to myself, and I should limit who I trust. A secret is a piece of me, and when I tell that to more then one person, that gives them power and stretches me out. Maybe someday I will tell someone all my secrets, wishes, and dreams and have them hold them in their heart like easter eggs in a basket, fragile and protected by grass. But until then, I’m going to work on myself and keeping things to myself. I have trust issues now, and I want them.
Most days, in many ways, occasionally on Sundays:
I close my eyes and dream of someone other than who I see in the mirror,
wanting more than anything to be some other face,
wishing to not be this person in the corner in a crowded place.
I cry, all the while hating myself for the weakness,
I used to be so strong before the consuming storm of distress.
I struggle as the storm rages on, the ocean I float in pulling me under
Gasping for air, I lose Up and swim to Down, a terrible blunder
A large part of me, the rusty frame I have grown accostomed to,
Aspires to drown, to just end it all and to count it as loss, say adieu
The ‘new’ me, the one I’m told to be, drills me to fight on.
The meaning of the antebellum within my core is gone.
Will I always fight, or will I finally become who I want to be?
I fear I have gone deaf, and I can no longer see.
Content in loneliness, knowing who I am when it gets dark,
Who stares in the eyes of the beast, laughs at the menace of a shark.
Feeling all this contempt for me, I feel my old skin begin to fade
And finally I realize, there are so many people to be other than Jaid.
What does it mean to change? It is not a temporary, spontaneous decision made on a whim. It is not a simple character trait that needs worked on. From now on, I want to wake up and become another person. A quiet, self sufficient girl who’s no longer afraid of rape or loneliness or disapointing people. Who no longer cares what people believe about them, because she knows who she is and that is sufficient. I don’t want to be angry, or sensitive or quickly angered. I want to be someone else. I once thought changing my name is necissary, but I read this quote today and it impacted me greatly.
“But don’t forget who you really are. And I’m not talking about your so-called real name. All names are made up by someone else, even the one your parents gave you. You know who you really are. When you’re alone at night, looking up at the stars, or maybe lying in your bed in total darkness, you know that nameless person inside you.”
I want to be the nameless person inside of me, whoever that might be.
What I’m wanting is to find someone, and I love adventure and scavenger hunts, so I will make it a challenge by setting my standards above the expected. I want to find someone, but not just anyone. I want to love my treasure in every argument and angry face contest and silly annoyance. I want to look at you and think how beautiful you are when you hate me, and how lovely we can be when we are in perfect harmony, your melody against my soft acoustics, but also how strong and powerful we are when we yell, throwing the vocals off the charts. I will no longer depend on others and force friendships on people who will not love me forever for they can not even love me for the moment. I’m not saying it will be easy, I’m simply saying it will be worth it. Yes I’m a romantic, and yeah I’m proud of it. I’m going to keep searching the seas for the X that marks the spot because I believe when two souls are meant to be together, there is nothing that can stop them from it. I’m well aware of what love is. I will search forever for it rather than settle with regret for the rest of my life. I may mistakenly stumble along the way, but I will wait to completely fall in love until I find someone ready to catch me.
I will wait, like the dawn waits for the morning, I will wait for you.