Monday, December 6, 2010

"you're chasing the ghost of a real thing, haunting yourself as the real thing"

I am not very easily understood.

I can be offputting, to say the very least. This is, as I've come to realize, a defense mechanism. I don't give a good impression, because I'd probably rather you think I dislike you, than give you the opportunity to dislike me. I don't like this about myself ( ha self, I beat you to the self loathing). But in seriousness,
I'm a lot of talk -- in the sense that, you probably won't find someone who loves their friends more than I do. Nor will you find someone who wishes they could be EVERYONES everything as much I as I do. In the last years, I spread myself too thin. Gave too much of myself to too many people, and the people I trusted the very most, made me feel like the ONE thing I could always count on , my heart's intuition, was faulty.

So lately, I'm cold. I'm disconnected. I look out for me, and I fight back with an acid tongue I am not proud of. I'd rather pretend I don't care than let people who I took the time and effort to love see how harshly their judgment has effected who I am.

But I'm not cold. I'm not detached. I don't hate people. On the contrary, I weep over the friends I've lost, the people who I've pushed away, and those who have gone running even more. It kills me to look at the list of people who I tried so hard to be there for, and see how quickly it dwindled itself, and I whittled it down, all in the span of a few months.

I cant say that I expect everyone to agree with all of the decisions I've made this year, and please, forgive me for comparing myself this way, but I feel like a bad Britney Spears song. I am growing up. I am growing into who I am. I can't change the things that have gotten me here, but I wish people cut me a little bit more slack.

So . You call me a slut. Perpetuate stories that aren't true, laugh about me like it's a joke. How funny was it when I drove across town to pick you up for rehearsal all summer? When I NEVER left , no matter how late it was or how tired I was, without making sure you had a way home ? When I fought for you to be allowed to try your damndest ? And who are you to pass judgement anyways. I was honest with myself about how I felt . Can you say the same ?

I'm honest with me a lot. I tell myself over and over and over again when I've messed up. Believe me, Just because I don't broadcast my self criticisms, doesn'tmean I don't know they're there. I'm emotional, I react rashly, I'm stubborn, and I can't take no for an answer. I know these things, you don't have to click your tongue and shake your head. I know me.

but I'm also compassionate. I react so quickly because I feel so passionately. I'm vulnerable. I'm in recovery, and I'm still pretty broken. I'm funny. I love with everything I have. I'm loyal. I'm good with words. I'm a good friend, and more than anything, I am good at using my heart. When I love, I do it to the very best of my ability. I work, actively to be what people need from me.

I don't give a very good impression, not anymore. But it's because I'm guarded in a way I didn't use to have to be. I've had pieces of me go missing, and I'm afraid to do that again, I'm afraid to ever hurt myself again. But it doesn't mean that I'm cold, that I'm angry and mean, and it certainly doesn't mean I'm a slut.

I'm growing into who I've become. I only wish It wasn't so lonely.

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