I went to the doctor today for persistent headaches, fatigue, & just generally lacking energy for anything at all. I've been falling asleep early every day, and then sleeping around 10 hours a night and am still exhausted. Maybe I've just giving up trying with anything. My brother thinks I might be anemic. We went to find out.
The doc was just doing her job, this I know. But she started asking me questions about my life, and when I became less than responsive, she tried to dig deeper, saying that something more was going on and she could tell. At that point I just shut down. And I realized I don't want to talk to people about what's going on, at least not somebody like her. It scared me even imagining how she'd react if I spilled it all right there in that tiny room...I don't like other people telling me there's something wrong. I already know this. And her suggestion of anti-anxiety medication or something similar eluded to the fact that she wanted me to have some sort of psych consult...that's not going to happen.
I want to run away. I want to get away from everything. I don't want people to know anything about me, I don't want them to see my scars or know about my past or present. I'm tired of feeling like I'm just being judged for how I feel, for how my mind works. I'm sick of it all.
The lyrics to Crazy Girl are irrelevant, but the video seems to hit home. I feel like I'm locked up against my will, that no matter how hard I try I can't break free. But unlike the girl in the video, I don't want to ask for help. I won't. Part of me is comforted by my 4 walls, at least they stay constant in my ever-changing world. And maybe I like my misery, my persistent displeasure in my life and the world around me, unable to achieve happiness for longer than a fleeting moment. Maybe this is how I'm supposed to be. Maybe I am just crazy.
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Little Bit of Truth
Tomorrow, my parents are flying up to help my roommate and me move into our new place. The lease doesn't start until the 21st, so we'll have another day to get organized and packed up. While I'm excited to be going back home, to spend the summer with my parents and the few friends that'll be in town, I don't feel ready.
I've been bitching about this place for months now, desperate to leave, desperate for some sunshine and a change of scenery. I've wanted nothing more than to run away from all of my demons up here, to forget everything that has happened this year. And there's been a lot...more has happened in this past year than ever before it seems, and at the moment it's all weighing me down. I don't feel at peace, not internally, and not right now. Maybe this will come when I am finally home, but I know full well as much as I try to run, the past always catches up to me.
I always doubt my actions, doubt my choices in life. While I know everything happens for a reason, I can't help but wonder what could've been, what would've been if one little thing had been different. If I had never started self-harming; if I had kept it all a secret instead of telling my friends; if I had chosen to live in a different place for my junior year; if I had acted on my feelings instead of cowering in fear.
I have been living in fear for as long as I can remember. There have only been a couple of times where I have truly jumped in, head first with my eyes closed, unaware of what I was getting into but actually okay with it. I will never regret these decisions, the ones I made when I knew I had something to lose. These are the ones that taught me the most, that gave me the most perspective on life, and have given me the best memories I could ever hope to keep.
In two more days, I'll leave Oregon for almost 3 months. I'll be away from this town, from this state, yet everything that's happened will stay with me. I'll live with these doubts and fears until I come back up here and no doubt do it all again. Vicious circles.
I got a 4.0 this term.
I've been bitching about this place for months now, desperate to leave, desperate for some sunshine and a change of scenery. I've wanted nothing more than to run away from all of my demons up here, to forget everything that has happened this year. And there's been a lot...more has happened in this past year than ever before it seems, and at the moment it's all weighing me down. I don't feel at peace, not internally, and not right now. Maybe this will come when I am finally home, but I know full well as much as I try to run, the past always catches up to me.
I always doubt my actions, doubt my choices in life. While I know everything happens for a reason, I can't help but wonder what could've been, what would've been if one little thing had been different. If I had never started self-harming; if I had kept it all a secret instead of telling my friends; if I had chosen to live in a different place for my junior year; if I had acted on my feelings instead of cowering in fear.
I have been living in fear for as long as I can remember. There have only been a couple of times where I have truly jumped in, head first with my eyes closed, unaware of what I was getting into but actually okay with it. I will never regret these decisions, the ones I made when I knew I had something to lose. These are the ones that taught me the most, that gave me the most perspective on life, and have given me the best memories I could ever hope to keep.
In two more days, I'll leave Oregon for almost 3 months. I'll be away from this town, from this state, yet everything that's happened will stay with me. I'll live with these doubts and fears until I come back up here and no doubt do it all again. Vicious circles.
I got a 4.0 this term.
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
Something to Believe In
It's easy, really. To slip. To be so close to the edge, peering over, the wind blowing through your hair, whispering in your ear "just do it." And, you wait. You think about everything over the past year, everything that has accumulated and brought you to this point. Your hands start to shake, your mind races, your heart pounds. You close your eyes, and try to remember the hope you used to have, the peace you used to feel. And then, everything goes dark.
Without even realizing it, yesterday was 4 months. Yet I'm indifferent. I don't seem to care that I've gone that long, because I've taken up new self-destructive habits as a replacement. And if anything, these make me feel worse, like I have even less control than before.
Will there ever be a time when I can look in the mirror and be okay with what I see looking back? The moments where this does happen are fleeting, they leave just as quickly as they came. A moment of calm, of peace, and then hatred once again. Hatred for how I've handled my life, how I've dealt with stress. Hatred for how I let it get this far, how I still have regrets and wish I did things differently. Hatred for wanting it all to end.
This isn't me saying I idealize letting go. If anything, I just need to feel something again, anything. Because ever since the last time I was able to breathe, I've felt numb. And I let this numbness drown me in perpetual waves, not caring if I never come up for air. Yet at the same time, I can feel someone inside screaming, begging. She wants her life back, she wants to feel happiness and excitement. Mostly, she just wants hope. She just wants something to believe in again.
Without even realizing it, yesterday was 4 months. Yet I'm indifferent. I don't seem to care that I've gone that long, because I've taken up new self-destructive habits as a replacement. And if anything, these make me feel worse, like I have even less control than before.
Will there ever be a time when I can look in the mirror and be okay with what I see looking back? The moments where this does happen are fleeting, they leave just as quickly as they came. A moment of calm, of peace, and then hatred once again. Hatred for how I've handled my life, how I've dealt with stress. Hatred for how I let it get this far, how I still have regrets and wish I did things differently. Hatred for wanting it all to end.
This isn't me saying I idealize letting go. If anything, I just need to feel something again, anything. Because ever since the last time I was able to breathe, I've felt numb. And I let this numbness drown me in perpetual waves, not caring if I never come up for air. Yet at the same time, I can feel someone inside screaming, begging. She wants her life back, she wants to feel happiness and excitement. Mostly, she just wants hope. She just wants something to believe in again.
Friday, April 27, 2012
So Far Away
Something miraculous happened.
I've been putting Mederma on my scars for a couple of months now, and every time I did I would look at them with regret; regret for ever cutting, and regret for telling people about it. I would think about them and be fearful that someone (especially my parents) would see them; I would be afraid of how anyone would react. Yesterday, I looked at them and was actually proud. Which seems weird- why would someone be proud of their self-mutilation, all the damage they did in moments of weakness? Then it hit me. I'm proud of these because for the first time, I truly feel like they are only a part of my past. This is not to say that I am completely "saved" or "cured," or that I won't cut again. I can't make that promise to anyone. But for right now, I don't want to. I want to see the scars and remember the heartache, the pain, everything that led me to picking up the razor. I want to look at my cuts and remind myself that even through all of that, I made it to here. 75 days and counting. 75 days since I've been so numb that I needed to draw blood to actually feel something again. 75 days since I let someone's words and actions hit that hard and dig that deep. I know there will be more hell I'll go through, it's inevitable with life. And I know that I can sit here and type this out, say that I'll be okay because for right now I am. But the past few weeks have been a testament to all of that. I've found other ways to cope, other ways to push past those urges and the overwhelming need to cut. I've silenced that voice. And for right now, that's all I can ask of myself.
I've always been one to push myself. I pushed myself through junior high and high school, determined to get a 4.0. I've been pushing myself through college, with the expectation that I'll graduate with over a 3.7 cumulative GPA. And since February 11th 2012, I've been pushing myself to give up a habit I should've never started. 75 days later, and I have never been more proud of myself. I'm not scared about people finding out, because just like everyone else, I have a story. I know not everyone will understand or accept me, but I will. These scars will be a part of me forever, even if they do eventually fade. Because I'll remember how I fought for the freedom from myself, from my own mind. And how for almost 3 months, I've won.
The song So Far Away has always been my favorite. It's been one thing to continually put a smile on my face, regardless of my mood. I've always known I wanted to get those words tattooed on my body, but I never knew where or for what purpose. I think I've found that reason. Because right now, I'm not ashamed to be the person that I am today. This is me, this is my life, and this is part of my story.
I've been putting Mederma on my scars for a couple of months now, and every time I did I would look at them with regret; regret for ever cutting, and regret for telling people about it. I would think about them and be fearful that someone (especially my parents) would see them; I would be afraid of how anyone would react. Yesterday, I looked at them and was actually proud. Which seems weird- why would someone be proud of their self-mutilation, all the damage they did in moments of weakness? Then it hit me. I'm proud of these because for the first time, I truly feel like they are only a part of my past. This is not to say that I am completely "saved" or "cured," or that I won't cut again. I can't make that promise to anyone. But for right now, I don't want to. I want to see the scars and remember the heartache, the pain, everything that led me to picking up the razor. I want to look at my cuts and remind myself that even through all of that, I made it to here. 75 days and counting. 75 days since I've been so numb that I needed to draw blood to actually feel something again. 75 days since I let someone's words and actions hit that hard and dig that deep. I know there will be more hell I'll go through, it's inevitable with life. And I know that I can sit here and type this out, say that I'll be okay because for right now I am. But the past few weeks have been a testament to all of that. I've found other ways to cope, other ways to push past those urges and the overwhelming need to cut. I've silenced that voice. And for right now, that's all I can ask of myself.
I've always been one to push myself. I pushed myself through junior high and high school, determined to get a 4.0. I've been pushing myself through college, with the expectation that I'll graduate with over a 3.7 cumulative GPA. And since February 11th 2012, I've been pushing myself to give up a habit I should've never started. 75 days later, and I have never been more proud of myself. I'm not scared about people finding out, because just like everyone else, I have a story. I know not everyone will understand or accept me, but I will. These scars will be a part of me forever, even if they do eventually fade. Because I'll remember how I fought for the freedom from myself, from my own mind. And how for almost 3 months, I've won.
The song So Far Away has always been my favorite. It's been one thing to continually put a smile on my face, regardless of my mood. I've always known I wanted to get those words tattooed on my body, but I never knew where or for what purpose. I think I've found that reason. Because right now, I'm not ashamed to be the person that I am today. This is me, this is my life, and this is part of my story.
Saturday, April 14, 2012
Cigarettes
Today was one of the best days I've had in a long time. I woke up, made myself breakfast, showered, & drove into Albany. I bought myself a slower cooker from Target, then went over to Kohl's and got two cute new shirts. On my way out of town, I happened upon the most adorable little farmer's market and decided to stop. I got some kettle corn from a precious old couple, and bought myself some flowers (which, according to my mom, was well deserved). Upon returning to Corvallis, I packed myself a lunch and headed for the coast. Newport is a gorgeous little town, when the sun's out of course. Laying a blanket down in the sand, I read my book for a couple of hours, occasionally looking up and watching all of the people who came with their kids, their loved ones, and their puppies. It was the most at peace I have felt in a long time. I needed a trip to the beach, to hear the crash of the waves, feel the cool breeze against my skin, and absorb the sun's comforting rays. Pablo Neruda's poem resonated with me the whole time I was there, especially the first line: I need the sea because it teaches me. I always feared the ocean, and today I realized why. The ocean is deep, it's immense; parts are unexplored, and undiscovered; it's feared and it's admired. The ocean is just like me, I am the ocean. This isn't to say I think that people fear me or admire me, but I think that it's composed of the same contradictions as I am. And because of this, I can learn from the sea. I can learn strength and fierceness, consistency and calmness, rhythm and peace.I need the sea because it teaches me.I don't know if I learn music or awareness,if it's a single wave or its vast existence,or only its harsh voice or its shining one,a suggestion of fishes and shipsThe fact is that until I fall asleep,in some magnetic way I move inthe university of the waves.
Sometimes all I need is to take a step back from my life and stare out into the sea...to realize that compared to the ocean, I'm just one person. And all of my problems, my battles are tiny compared to the beauty that lies within, all of the beauty that has yet to be unearthed. This realization gave me hope- hope that I'll make it through this dark phase, that I'll find peace among the storm, and that I will be okay.
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