Saturday, November 28, 2009
From a whisper to a scream.
Sometimes when life is hard, I just want to hide. I don't want to clean up the mess. And it's not that I don't know how. I know what I need to do. I need to chill out with the partying, I need to scedule a therapy appointment, take my meds, shower, and get back to class. I need to chill the fuck out. I just don't have the strength to do it. It was never not knowing how. It's always been the issue of strength and not having enough.
I had a break down today. I flipped out on my Mom and smacked my sister. I yelled at my mom and accused her of not loving me the way she loves my siblings. It's like ever sicne I was little my mom's seen me more as a responsibility, this emotionally handicapped job that she doesn't feel like attending to. It hurts so badly. It hurts every time I look at the way she laughs and gossips with my sister and then sighs at the sight of my messy hair and smudged mascara.My 27 year old perfect sister (no really, she's fucking perfect) yelled at me and tried to stick herself into something she had no business dealing with. My Mom started to cry, as I smacked my sister, and asked me why I do this to the family. Everyone was standing in the kitchen looking at me like I was a monster who ruins everything. So, I flipped out. I lost control. I started pulling my hair, kicking the chairs around, screaming and crying, breaking their stupid shit that they buy to show everyone we're wealthy. They just cried silently in response and dodged the flying bullets that my insults became.
I've been hurting a lot lately, but i've also been numb. It combs in and out like waves. There are lulls or lapses, where the pain slips away and I feel nothing, but that does not bring me peace. It's like the rain stopped, but the sky's still shitty and gray and the grounds all wet.
I know what I need to do. I need to get shit off my chest and talk about this stuff. I'm letting it curl up with me. And that is so monumentally painful. It's like I'm living with a ghost, this transparent being that exists in the small valley of my hopes.
I will tell you something in an effort to get it off my chest. Life can be really shitty, I mean fucked up, disturbing, dark, twisty, shitty. I mean the shitty you don't like to think or write about. the shitty that's so ugly that you don't give it the time of day. You suffer from because it's easier than dealing with. We each have a story that brings about this shittiness. Here's mine.
I don't always talk about it, but it doesn't mean that I don't think about it. I am a 19 year old young woman with a rather superior iq. I smoke pot, I go to the local university, I have friends, am fairly popular. I fit in and don't stick out as far as appearances go. But inside, I feel like I'm a different species. And I don't know what to do, or to say to myself, to make that feeling go away. I just know how to hide and lay in bed.
I want to be brave. I want to be someone 13 year old girls look up to and what to be like. I want to be just like Leslie (with some minor changes of course). I want to teach and be a scholar. But I don't know how to do that when my mind and body feel so weak.