Early Morning Woes

I need to rant even though it is 2:30 and I feel rotten.

And once again I've been listening to Pale for awhile now, but Pale is kind of like a ladder that after I get done digging a deep hole to hide in, I have to use it to climb out. All I can do is hope I'm not past the point where WT can save me...

*sigh* I was reading something earlier and it really hit me how bitter I am, how angry I am at the entire world. Now I joke about this all the time...especially about how I hate men, how the world is messed up, how I'm insane.

But I never believed any of this until recently. I don't know if I have lost more faith in myself or with the rest of the world. I definitely never had much faith in myself. I have always thought I was crazy, meant to suffer, some sort of plague, but I had turned a lot of that around. I got to the point where I almost liked myself, was going to try to use my past and everything it meant for good. I wanted to fight, to be something.

Now I've given up. I wouldn't say I wasn't going to try- just that I'm not going to care and really I don't care. I have numbed myself to so many things. This lack of caring is what scares me the most and makes me think I am some sort of psychopath. I know I mention how there are a lot of fights between my mother, brother and me and I play a big part of it. I can't help fighting. I've tried talking, I've tried changing how I react, but still all I see is the same thing. People act the same.

I'm starting to doubt if I have even changed. I was sitting on my bed writing a few nights ago and I realized I was doing the same thing I did seven years ago. So really I haven't just not changed since last year, but I haven't changed since junior high, since I was younger. It is true. I'm still obsessive and desperate to escape except now I have it better justified, have some proof that I'm not all bad. When I was younger I used to write stories in my head and almost live in some fantasy just to escape my silly, yet uncomprehendiblely pain world. So now I want to be a writer. I want to spend my life running into stories of everything I fear, will never be, will never witness. I felt bad when I saw people who graduate with degrees in some math related field get the most money/ jobs. Why? All my life before I gave in to fantasies I wanted to be a scientist. I can do math. I don't have an excuse for studying creative writing. And well pyschology...I'm forever chasing what is wrong with me, trying to find what could have been. I justify my love of messing with people's brains with my love of seeing how people think. I'm going down the wrong path to somewhere I never imagined I would end up, but this path is so sweet. It was a temptation I could not resist and somehow I made myself think I was happy, think I had changed, had moved on. I can't know how truth that is...I really did escape everything I was. That's why I feel the need to change. I think I'm a bad person, but maybe one day I'll change into something not evil.

I often think I should never have been born. Had I not have been born, he would have committed no sin. I would not be bound to to bear the burden of the dreams that never were, to fight the father who messed with my earliest stages of emotional/ mental development and still haunts my memories, my future. One thing I know is I do not truly want to fight. But I also could not sit back and be weak. I have been forced to fight because there are things I want and none of these come easy. I will not except nothingness, being weak, hurting, but each day I remind myself one day along the line I will find some peace, a place where I will not have to struggle. Looking back I wonder how much I have really struggled in my life. I think of others who have really accomplished something like being the best at sports or having perfect grades and then there is me who was never quite good enough at anything. I couldn't swim, I wasn't that focused on school and I caused more trouble and expected everyone else to work it out for me. So was I not trying? Or were my efforts directed elsewhere...as in surviving. Sadly I believe there is some truth in that statement. I had to tell myself things to talk myself down from destroying myself, but most of those promises never came to be. I never went the extra mile. I just went on hating who I was, putting my head down so I didn't have to bear the shame.

And I truly have been or am ashamed of who I am. I have always wanted to be someone else. Someone popular, witty, brilliant, pretty and most of all valued. But what I see in me is someone awkward, bitter, terrified, holding back, fat, ugly and tolerated. I can't stand being the one standing alone, making a fool of myself, saying the wrong thing, but time and again I am and it wear on me until I don't want to be anyone. So I say I am nothing. I like nothing, I have no opinions on anything, I am voiceless and this protects me from those eyes that would judge. But I never understood fully it is my eyes that judge. I am the one who has torn myself down time and time. Other people forget things, which I cannot. I have no definition for the word forgive...

Lately I have given into everything I am fighting. I have become a hypocrite and this reality is the cruelest thing for me to bear. I let myself use my strength to hurt someone, to mock everything we were and even if doing so was driven by the purest intentions to regain what was lost, I committed the most awful act. I should not wonder now why I feel like a traitor, a stranger. Maybe I had changed for the better after setting myself free originally, but that has become lost admist betrayal, broken trust and disappointment. The thing that really stands out as hurting the most was the situation that worsened with the person I thought was my best friend. The loss of her was not something I ever thought would happen so I really didn't expect it, but trully I had been blinding myself all along. Like the time it was my fault she didn't talk to me all day on a field trip I sat alone wanting to cry on or the times I cried alone. I feel tainted now knowing I am not worth the effort to her. This really shattered most of the trust I had. It was just more proof that people can't get along, talking resolves nothing and all that. I don't want to lose faith in humanity, but looking around me at the apathy and selfishness I can't help but wonder why I ever cared so much. Why try to save someone who doesn't care about you, doesn't really care about what you are saying. I've been trying to keep something alive for a long time now...My relationship with her, my blind excitement, my dreams. What do I do now? I have so many times asked. After I betray everyting, after there is nothing left of something you love, after your worst fears play out before you, what do I do? How do I forget the friend who made me who I am? How do I smile and ask as if the bright sun and laughter is all that matters when in the back of my mind I know the pain I have caused?

It is pointless to try to say I have done nothing wrong. Though I say this a lot and I am just trying to lie to myself. I have done everything wrong. I tore my family apart and am essentially ruining someone's life, killing someone. That is why I always had those dreams about killing my father. I knew all along it is what I would one day do. That in order for me to overcome, to feel strong, I would have to hurt him. But he deserves it, I know. I'm sorry I can't be that cold, that even after someone violated me so much I cannot even bear to think of where they are now, what people from my past would say if they knew the truth about me. I shouldn't complain about all the legal battles I face now, all the fears of what he can have done to me when I brought this on myself. Why? Because I got depressed and somehow convinced myself the only way to be happy again was by telling a secret that would blast the very foundations of my world. To a certain degree it worked to. It did make me happy, gave me hope, but at what expense. I hurt my mother beyond what I will ever know. She is the one who has to take the pain for my wishes. My only response to this is telling myself I will be everything she wasn't, but that is a horrible burden. I want to break this chained of hopelessness and self-hate, but all I see is a girl too scared to be herself, to bitter to focus on what she has and too screwed up to even see anything clearly. I don't want to see myself as permentally ruined but I don't see how I will ever stop being me, forget the horrors. All I want is to go somewhere peaceful away from people who demand things from me, from things I do not respond well to.

I am beyond guilty. Guilty for not helping more people, for wanting things, for causing fights, for hurting my family, for being mean, for hurting my best friends, for being ridiculous, for being alive. I am entwined in making things right. I have no hopes and dreams beside this. I need to be the hero I never had, I need to prove there is beauty left and people do care. If my birth was a sin than my whole life will be atonement and I can live knowing that. I have no choice about that. Once my dark fantasy was suicide. When things became unbearable I would say this is the end, I should not exist anymore. I hated myself so much I took sharp objects to my own skin until I felt bad about hurting myself, but I wanted to be punished. Now I wonder what I was punishing myself for...hurting? making a mistake, being screamed at, what others did to me? In a void I do not hate myself...actually quite the contrary but when apply all the ways I react, all the things I waste, I hate who I am.

Now I hide behind a shell of arrogance. My thoughts of being better than everyone else somehow justify my existence, justify everything I am not. In truth I am alone. I am hurt, scared, dying for someone to comfort me. All my life comfort is all I wanted, for someone to choice me and want me above all, but I've been screamed at, rejected, not understand, abused in every way possible. My deepest fear is I will somehow turn out like the people who hurt me. I am afraid of what I will turn out to be, what I am capable of doing. I do not trust myself now. I do not accpet that deep within I am probably too caring. I see someone who wants revenge on the world who hurt her, who wants to take everything she was denied. When I stop fighting, when I give in this is what I am. I default into depression...

Or so I thought, but maybe it is not true since even after all the pain, I can still laugh and love. I have some distant hope that maybe just maybe there was a part of me that was not touched. That past my depressive tendencies I am happy and believe in everything I contradict when I am not. Is this just how I meant to be? For a reason? Can I wield everything I am as a weapon of good before it destroys me from the inside?

The future stretches out before, terrifies me because it represents infinite possibility, infinite potential. I can create something beyond everything I cried about, I can be more than the bitter victim. There are dark things that lay waiting around corner I didn't even know existed and these things that I am paranoid of can happen. But this road I must walk goes on past it...until I can find peace.

I know I must learn to forgive...if not the world, but myself because I am not my enemy. I cannot beat myself for what I have done, for things that at the root are not my fault. Sure I have hurt people I love, hurt myself, lied, made terrible mistakes, but they are not the end. There are things I will miss, people I will not forget so easily and good things that I wish had ended differently. But I must accept I cannot change these things...

I cannot make her care. I was a part in the destruction of our relationship, but it was never once what I wanted. She never tried. I tried everything I knew even to the point of lying and betraying myself. I have cried and mourned her so much when I should just walk away.

I will no longer apologize for who I am.