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Posts tagged: life
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.
Dear Future Self, (in the year 2012 because we are all dead or we are not giving a shit about it being 2012 and being alive still)
I do not know what name I should call you by. Seeing as I’m always changing what I’m called, and I’m still in the process of choosing/solidifying a name that fits me and that my parents approve of, I’ll just call you You.
So, You, I hope you have been doing well. I’m quite fine at the moment. I’m about to go off to college, after graduating a year early from high school. Remember this summer? Yeah? Please tell me it was good.
I don’t know what I would say to you… I don’t per say have any advice because I don’t know what you’re up to (hopefully nothing legal and nothing moral ;] ) but whatever you are doing, I hope I approve. I hope it makes you happy. I hope you wake up and don’t look for reasons to hurt yourself intentionally. I hope whatever you are doing makes you smile and I hope for God’s sake that you REMEMBER THE FUCKING PAST!!!! I know I forgot it, but I’m leaving the task up to you to remember it. That’s all I really want from you, other than to still be alive.
Oh, and I hope that you still love art the way you do know…ermmm… the way I do now.
It’s a big part of my life and I really never want to lose it. So if you’ve lost it, so help me I’ll kill you! I mean myself! I mean whoever!!
I hope you’ve decided what you’re going to do in college by this point. I mean, two years. Come on, how long are you going to need? Just choose something your heart tells you to if you haven’t by this point.
And if you have chosen something, I hope it’s what your heart told you to choose.
Anyway, I also hope you’ll be celebrating at least a year clean of cutting. I don’t expect you to be doing that anymore! Seriously, here is my agenda for you. You’ll be starting hormones in December of 2010, this year. If you do, and all goes well, you should be doing much better just by that.
If you do and they don’t work, I give you permission to kill yourself, after double checking there are no other options.
If you don’t start T in December, I don’t want you doing anything. Whatever reason the doctors choose, it’s their decision. If they think you’re not stable, don’t do anything or you’ll just prove them right. If you aren’t medically stable, then all you can do is try and get better. But if there is still hope, there is no reason to be dramatic here.
(I know how much you hate the word “drama” buuut I don’t care. In some cases it is just that.)
And after that… Tattoos and piercings are all legal! So think of the possibilities!!
I don’t know what comes after that, frankly. That’ll be up to you.
All I have to say about that big blur of the future is that I hope you find your way among everything that is shutting down, that you keep moving forward when everyone else is falling back, even if it makes you feel guilty. And never underestimate yourself. Some days you will want to quit the world and everyone in it, but don’t. Just don’t do it. Someone, somewhere out there, loves you. (Unless you’ve become a complete asshole then I will personally kill you.)
So remember that. Even in the darkest of times, there will be someone who cares. Even when it doesn’t feel like it, even when a close friend betrays you, even when someone else wants you dead, even when doors are being shut left and right, you will be able to get through it. For every bad thing in your life at the moment, there are about ten good things. Sure, they don’t seem good because you take them for granted, but they are there. And you can find them, if you just look deeper.
So, in closing, stay strong. Or, if the Mayan calendar was right, you’re dead and this doesn’t matter.
Yours Truly,
You
All my life is nowadays is waiting…
waiting to be old enough to be able to get a tattoo.
waiting to be old enough to get piercings legally.
waiting to be old enough to start hormone replacement therapy.
waiting to have the world truly see me as I wish I could see myself.
waiting to get a real job.
waiting to do things I want when I want.
waiting to do my own thing and get the fuck out of this house.
waiting.
waiting is hell.
waiting is three months.
waiting is six months.
waiting takes forever.
waiting takes patience.
i don’t have patience.
Somedays I feel so useless, I’m simply a placeholder for what I want to be. And I don’t want to hear shit about how if you really want your dreams to come true you will find a way.
Well, fuck. I found one. I found ten. I found a thousand. The only problem is I have to wait.
And I don’t wait well.
Sometimes you can’t control your situation. Sometimes things are just beyond your grasp, things are too far out of reach to do any good. Sometimes you have to realize a compromise is necessary.
Sometimes there is nothing you can do.
Sometimes.
My parents want to send me to California for the summer, right after Northern Orientation.
Don’t get me wrong, I love California and I love being at my uncle’s and I love all of it more than words can describe.
But that means I leave my computer.
My music.
My home. My friends. My group. My support. And most of all, my freedom.
My books, my room, my bed, my plants (which are growing well :3) my everything.
I would say I have to leave my heart, also, but it’s not something I have the right to claim as my own. So I would be leaving the heart that used to belong to me but no longer does.
My mural, with all my favorite song lyrics.
My comfort. The city, the stores, the places, the lights, the nights, the car, the doctors, the people who awkwardly somewhat know me but really don’t but still smile awkwardly when they see me, the cool ballpoint pens that are the best quality cheap pens I have ever met.
My everything.
I shouldn’t bitch about going to California for the whole summer, because God knows how many times my dreams are just me and the Cali sun over my uncle’s vineyards- no screaming from my dad, no crying from my mom, no black eyes, no freaking out brothers- just the sun and the air, which is in itself a being, and the sky, all tucked away in a valley that keeps me safe.
I shouldn’t bitch about going to California for the whole summer because I love being there. But something inside of me is telling me not to go.
Something inside knows that if I go, I lose everything.
All the things I’ve worked so hard for, struggled over, longed for, and finally are coming true, would be lost.
Love, life, meaning in everything, gone.
I just know, it’s one of those things that resonates within you, saying don’t leave this. This is what you want.
But then I get stuck. I don’t know what I want. All I know is I can’t have it all.
And I’ve already lost some of it, I’m losing more of it every day.
Sorry, I just loved the title too much :)
It’s like you’re a song playing over and over in my head, reminding me what I could have had, but never belonged to me. Reminding me that you don’t love me. Reminding me that nothing I ever do will make it better.
Replaying in my head like a catcall, like a mockery. That I’m not deserving. That I’m not good enough for you. That I can’t be what you always expected me to be.
Replaying, fast-forwarding, rewinding, pausing, replaying.
Over and over and over, like insanity, like happiness, like bliss.
It becomes my life, my whole being, it has transformed me into what I cannot, could not be.
It becomes me.
Because that is what is in my head, twirling round and round, spinning lies and tripping my thoughts, catching my tongue and flipping my words, slipping its similar comfort around me, lulling me into a false sense of love and protection, then slamming on the breaks and crashing me into the cement barricades.
That is what you do to me, my own flesh and blood, my own relative.
My own mother.
It could easily be said that me running from everything is a cop out. But recently having to do an essay on the optimism of tragedy, it seems my running could be established not as an escape from reality but an escape from imagination.
Why should suicide be considered a tragedy? If tragedy is created by the tragic environment, then shouldn’t it be said that the escape from said environment is not an escape from a life too burdened with hurt to continue, but instead recall it as being a realization of dreams.
Let me explain before you start thinking, what is this maniac saying?!?!
If someone is suicidal, they want to die. They no longer want to live. So that becomes their dream, to escape the circumstances of their miserable existence.
And if this is true, then killing themselves is a way of making their dreams come true.
True, the existence of wanting to die is not an optimistic one, but if someone in their heart has a dream and wants it to come true, should it not be said that once they accomplish that dream they are complete?
An alcoholic who then committed suicide could be held above a high-ranking company advertisement agent because of this, in the sense that they completed their dreams and have proof of doing so. The advertising agent will never have complete dreams because his job is created to always have him chasing the next big thing.
In this sense, yes, suicide is optimistic.
And corporal systems are always pessimistic, no matter where I have seen them.
Such a strange class, I have, to ask about the optimism in a tragedy.
Such a strange person, I am, to have twisted the assignment to justify a suicide.
