~and by the way
I'm really not doing so well, and even though this latest project is something minorly productive, I don't know that it's very good for me to be doing.
When I look back at my life, I go back and forth between feeling sad, and feeling angry. I miss being more abled than I am now. I'm angry that I'm not. I miss having a lot of "friends" in my life. As much as online has helped keep me alive these last few years, I know that it's not real. I know that if I turned off the computer, the tv, and telephone, my life would consist of... next to nothing. RavensWings would stop by once or twice a week, but that'd be it.
My life didn't used to be like this. I always had a ton of friends, and plenty of things to do. Crappy thing is though, that even with that, I was fucked up. I was always in pain, on one level or another. I think that it shifted from mostly depression to mostly anger, after I learned how not to take things out on myself so much, but it never varied in severity.
Peers. I know what my peers are doing now, and I know what I'm doing. My peers have lives. They have careers and kids and families and hobbies and adventures. Me? I have MS.
...and it pisses me off. This is not for lack of trying. I did try. Over and over again. I tried until I broke. Then, I'd put the pieces together again, and keep trying, only to break again.
Every day, I try. At this point, I have to joke about it with myself. "Hey, I'll give you a bottle of Scotch, if you take a shower!" Yeah. Right. First off, it's not that I need to motivate myself. The reason why I can't get the trash out has nothing to do with not wanting to. The reason why I can't go for a walk has nothing to do with refusing to leave the house. This is about CAN'T, not "won't" or "don't want to".
Here's a clue... NEVER applaud me for saying something along the lines of "all I need is a good reward system!" unless you're 100% sure that I'm not being sarcastic or facetious. I TRY. I give it 1,000% EVERY DAY. My writing is full of sarcasm, obscure references to pop culture, and metaphor. It accurately reflects my personality. I'm very sarcastic, side splittingly funny, or brutally honest. A lot is lost in type, but I think that I do an ok job.
You might need to just "try harder" in life. I don't. I'm not you. Keep that in mind.
5:17 PM - 4/10/06
~brown paper
(old writing, part of the Scraps project)
So, here I am. It feels like now, the world should get off my back, but alas, life doesn't work that way. There's always something that someone will look down on you for.
I'm tired. My nerves kept me up or asleep with nightmares all night. I believe the trauma to be more about the concept than the reality of this. I've been out of school for 9 years, and each one of those 9 years was insanely traumatic. I doubt that many people could've lasted through one year of my life, let alone 27, but here I am. It's funny how ironic my being is. I've lived more than most 27 year olds, but appear half my age.
I am covered. My tattoos, all evidence of my reality, are covered. I enter this world as a spy. In time, it will be safe to remove some of my covering, but I must first lay the ground work. In this world, books are judged by their covers, so it's best that I cover mine with brown paper.
I never really thought that I'd do this. I mean, I've always toyed with the idea of college, but it always felt somewhat like a pipe dream. In a way, I am conceited. I sometimes feel that I am above all this. The real reasons I came here were to meet new people - especially other musicians, and because life was becoming boring. In truth, no one who would look in on my life would consider it boring, but my lack of routine became a routine. Routines are boring.
I panic, checking my roster for the hundredth time. Is my class at 9:30 as I think? Am I missing or overlooking something? I've had school panic dreams for years. Y'know, the ones where you forget your locker combination or can't find your class, or even better, can't figure out how to get to work while you're in school. This, however, isn't a dream. I am here, due in my first class in 9 years, at 9:30 AM. Nothing is missing or conflicting. I'm taking my first step up the mountain.
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