feel free to critique.
feel free to ask.
feel free to be free.
Looking back on my old blog, I was reading about how I felt last year when Hue first asked me out and I was so against it. I had so much emotion against him. I was confused. I didn’t know what I wanted but even then I knew instinctively that he treated me right. I wrote that he treated me better than I deserved. I knew even then that he treated me better than I had ever been treated, or was being treated at the time by other guys.
I wonder sometimes if I will wake up one day and not love him anymore and it scares me more than anything. I don’t want to imagine what it would be like without him in my life. I worry.
I hate to think that all good things come to an end, but I have the feeling that they do.
That someday, things will end. That the truth will come out and you’ll leave me. That I’ll cause something bad to happen.
I don’t know. Part of me knows it’s not true that I’ll do something bad because of my OCD. I have these repetitive thoughts freaking me out that I’ll cheat on my boyfriend. It’s not true because I’m a very, very dedicated person and I couldn’t ask for someone better, nor does anyone I know hold a candle to him. I don’t want anyone else. But my OCD says ‘you’re going to end up cheating on him and you’ll be a horrible person and it’ll all be your fault.’ I know it’s the last thing in the world that I would ever do, but my OCD keeps telling me that it’s going to happen.
![[ cloud overview | get your own cloud ]This is a Tumblr Cloud I generated from my blog posts between Jul 2008 and Jul 2011 containing my top 20 used words.Top 3 blogs I reblogged the most:markhamiltontameilainsanechoco](http://28.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lpky1t5ooT1qc4jnfo1_500.jpg)
This is a Tumblr Cloud I generated from my blog posts between Jul 2008 and Jul 2011 containing my top 20 used words.
Top 3 blogs I reblogged the most:
You don’t know me so don’t act like you do. You don’t know what it’s like when I have a panic attack and my thoughts spiral out of control. I can’t stop them and I can’t stop myself from becoming a creature of my mind, unmoving to the world but subject inside to the turmoil that makes tears come from my eyes as all you that look on try and understand why is she curled up in a ball crying? I know. I am stuck. No logic can permeate my thoughts. The only thing that makes any difference to me is the lie inside my head telling me things I don’t usually believe.
But if I told you, you’d think me insane.
So please, when I tell you that I’m trapped inside my head sometimes, know that it’s true.
Don’t invalidate me. I can’t have that.
I need you to say that even though I’m crazy you’ll still be there. Because that’s what I’m most afraid of: one day you will wake up and realize how crazy I am and leave me.
I don’t want that.
“You’re waiting for a train. A train that will take you far away. You know where you hope the train will take you, but you cannot be sure. But it doesn’t matter, because we’ll be together.”
I wonder what I’m thinking when I say things aloud. I think that I have forgotten who I am.
Is that very bad for me?
That I have forgotten who I am, in order to be someone I’m not?
I feel like I have betrayed what I held dearest to my heart. How can I get that back?
Here’s the gist of it: my guy friend who I’m going out with, I guess, was talking with me yesterday. And he started talking about how there is a truth out there. An absolute truth, I guess (not the words he used- but the same concept. That something is 100%, undeniably true no matter what).
I started saying something about all truths being relative and he started saying that is what society has changed people into believing, and that it’s a misconception that there isn’t a true truth out there. (That’s the truth, Truth! I love that commercial haha).
But I digress. The point is that I didn’t care. I was just thinking, so what? Everyone has their own truths. It’s a fact. It’s a truth. It’s a truth to me. Maybe not to you. But to me it is. And it proves my point exactly. My truth, my belief, is that everyone can believe something to be true.
There are Muslims, Atheists, and Catholics who may each believe in something very different, but they believe it to be true. In each of their hearts, they have found the truth for themselves. While that may be the truth for them, it is not the truth for me. But I am not going to judge them for finding the wrong truth. Because I don’t know if there is a truth- or a right or wrong one at that. My ‘truths’ have changed over my life. Who’s to say they won’t change again? Who’s to say that I’m not wrong?
I guess, after thinking about it a little bit more, that perhaps the mere act of putting one’s own beliefs above someone else’s is self-righteous and -absorbed to me. It seems that you think you’re God of the World, or something, and you decide what’s best for everyone.
I don’t think that’s true. Perhaps the most influential piece in my reasoning is something my mother told me. ‘Don’t judge others for the way they worship. If what they’re doing brings them closer to God, it’s not your place to interfere. That’s between them and God, not you and them and God.’ That phrase she said keeps haunting me. I keep thinking about it.
I respect her opinions and that statement humbled me. I was being judgmental of someone, looking back I think it was the fact that Catholics ‘can’t’ pray directly to God, that they have to pray to someone on their behalf, but that fact was that I thought I was better than them. I was saying, in my mind, what a douche! Don’t they know that’s not true?
And then my mom said that. She was able to find the right words to talk me out of my self-grandiose prophecy. I don’t know what’s best for everyone. Who am I to walk out there in the world and say, hey you, what you’re doing? Yeah, it’s wrong. Sorry. Carry on.
So when my guy friend who I should probably call a boyfriend (although that feels very high-schoolish and immature of me, not a term I like) says this, I turn my defenses on. I start doubting us. Because I don’t know if I can stand a negative person in my life like that. Someone with that much influence can’t be negative for me. And that is a truth of my life.
…and I am so incredibly disturbed. Maybe it’s because I used to be a dancer. Or that I am so close to being crazy everything they depicted was too close to home. Everything that happened in that movie was so disturbingly real and straight-on to things that have happened in my life (no, I wasn’t the prima ballerina, I’m talking about the other things) that it made me freak out big time.
As I watched everything unfold, it felt as though they had made this to personally speak to me. I know that’s ridiculous, but what I mean is that it feels like it was made to speak to those out there with mental disabilities such as eating disorders and dealing with the psychologically unreal, whether it be through something such as schizophrenia or a psychotic break, and even self injury, and the angry, paranoid protective force these illnesses and disorders can have over someone.
For someone who has dealt with too much already this is just another breaking point. It freaked me out beyond compare. I watched all the Saw movies without batting an eyelash, was put to sleep watching the Friday the 13th Movies, yawned through Nightmare on Elm Street (and the remakes), and breezed through the Rite and literally laughed at Paranormal Activity 1 and 2. But this movie about ballet somehow has me checking under my bed and second-guessing my own sanity, it was that creepy to me.
I know that’s weird to most people.
So for all you normal people out there who didn’t understand my review, it was super freaky and I would never have seen it in the first place if I could turn back time.
How many of you out there never had a prom?
I guess this is just one of those things I regret missing from my high school experience. At my school we can only have juniors and seniors go to prom unless you’re invited- and I wasn’t invited my first two years haha.
So my junior year, I thought I would get to go to prom. But I wasn’t able to because I was in outpatient treatment at the hospital. And other reasons on top of that.
And now I don’t get a chance to have a senior prom, which makes me really sad. I wanted a prom where I could dance with all my friends and have fun and live out loud and wear a long, pretty dress and not be ignored maybe. But I won’t get that because I’m not in high school anymore and college doesn’t grant a prom to would-be high schoolers.
So I guess this is just a rant about how I wish I had had a prom while I still had the chance. I will never get to have a prom now, where I can wear a huge dress and dance with all my friends and act all grown up. People only expect me to act all grown up all the time since I’m in college.
Sometimes I wonder if I can ever be happy with “normal”. If I’ll ever be able to accept things that aren’t crazy and out of routine- that I will be able to settle down into a monotony of day-to-day life.
That could be taken as a good or a bad thing.
Good because it means I am unique, unsettling. Someone you can’t pin down.
Bad because it means that I’m not able to deal with all the things most people deal with on a day to day to be happy; that I will only be happy if the extraordinary is happening. What if the extraordinary doesn’t happen every day, then?
Let them go. And if they don’t come back, they were never yours to begin with.
Somehow I think this statement is both true and false.
Love is not always a forever thing. I think for some people it might be, but for all you out there who go around throwing “love” to every other guy or girl you meet, it is not a forever thing. Obviously. So I think this isn’t true because maybe they did love you at one point and now they just don’t. So they did belong to you but don’t anymore.
But this statement is true because sometimes they could have belonged to you with all their heart, but they could not come back to you because it was not meant to be.
Or, my favorite to believe, they are coming back to you it’s just taking them a little while. That, ladies and gentlemen, is called denial haha.
My only regret is that I never found what I was looking for… someone who loved me.
Sometimes I swear my life is like a story book. The quality, not to mention quantity, of drama exceeds that of the entire Lifetime movie network.
A couple of days ago, I posted about Mr. Z and GUY.
For those who don’t know, SYNOPSIS!! GUY is the guy who didn’t want me liking Mr. Z. Mr. Z is roommates with GUY. Mr. Z is of a questionable sexuality, if I haven’t mentioned that. GUY just got out of a bad relationship a half a year ago for which he (rightfully) blames his ex. Mr. Z was getting very cozy with me, but apparently that was a ruse because when asked, he denied liking me. Even though my roommate, friends, and even parents (who he has met) thought he had a thing for me - not to make it sound like he did because going by his word, he didn’t. I’m “just a friend”.
SOOO… long synopsis aside, I was talking with GUY and I realized something. A while ago, when Mr. Z was fighting with his old roommate, whom we’ll call Capital D (not gonna say what that’s short for XP), GUY developed a theory. And this is assuming Mr, Z liked me. Capital D decided to be the best guy that ever was to me, and I could play the part of Snow White, or Sleeping Beauty, who gets saved by this guy and is indebted to them and loves them forever.
I don’t want to be anybody’s Cinderella. Anyone who knows me knows I’m very determined once I set my mind to something and I don’t play the role of submissive follower very well.
So I was not going to fit into his plan.
I assumed the things he did, he did for friendship, because I’m very naive. Like, so naive you wouldn’t believe the things that just go over my head sometimes.
And during this plan, Mr. Z decided to make Capital D look like a bigger douchebag because, according to GUY, “Mr. Z likes you and would do anything to make sure you aren’t [Captial D]’s. It’s like a competition to see who can make who look the worst.”
Obviously, Mr. Z won.
That’s where GUY’s theory stops and mine begins.
If guys are like that: they try for attention and would even make someone else look bad just so they can look good, then I didn’t know what to think.
Until I talked to GUY the other night. Things got pretty deep and I realized they were borderline flirtatious. And when I notice something’s a little suggestive, it’s usually like over 9000!!!!!oneone1!!1!!% positively suggestive.
(anyone who gets that reference gets a cookie for the day :D )
Then I realized maybe GUY is doing the same thing to Mr. Z because he didn’t want to lose me to him.
That if he makes Mr. Z look bad to me, by finding lies, inconsistencies, and other shortcomings of Mr. Z, by most any means possible, there might be an ulteriour motive. MIGHT. I don’t know. I’m not saying anything for sure right now, just … speculating, I guess.
Maybe all those times that GUY told me what Mr. Z had done to be a worse person was to gain favor by me. All those days he sat down and spilled everything Mr. Z did that was wrong, questionable, or even just plain boring, was to make himself look better.
A month ago, when GUY told me what Mr. Z had done to Capital D, I said that it was a really cruel thing to do just to get a girl, which he didn’t end up getting in the end.
Now that GUY might have done the same thing, it makes me question the integrity of the male species. What happened to bros before hoes?? (not that I’m a hoe…)
In love.
With someone who will never love me back.
I guess this is something a lot of people can relate to, right? Because we all know someone who doesn’t love us like we love them. And how do I know this? Simple, it’s life.
And also because I made a list. I know things are serious when I make lists haha (or that I have insanely too much time during spring break)…
1. You give them all the respect in the world and they treat you like they treat everyone else.
And most of us have done that at some point or another. We feel the need to… no, we want to make this person feel something special. We want them to see how much we like them, so we go the extra mile to let them know it. But they are just sitting there going, “Gee, thanks! Dude, I LOVE cookies!! — Oh hey, there’s insertcommonsuperhotblondechicknamehere! Come on over superhotblondechick!!” And you sit there thinking what the fuck you did wrong….
