more than you should know

What is it with October? I’m here two years later almost in the exact same spot as I was before except...I’m not the same person. I’ve lived a new life. I’ve thought and learned and practiced and lived new things. I did what I needed to do and got out just to come back. But here I am, onto the next journey trying to find a decent way to record it all just to come back here. I’m grateful for my thoughts from back then. I’m happy to feel like I’m heading somewhere else aside from the trap I set for myself in my own head. 

It’s been almost 3 years since I posted here. A lot has changed. A lot hasn’t. But one revelation that I’ve had is that I have to go. I can’t stay here. I can’t be here...with them. I’ve declined, suppressed, and regressed in my progress towards sense of self. I want to be part of this family. I want to be oriented towards community, but how can I do that as i deteriorate my nerves towards caring? I’ve gone weeks either empty or weighed down. What’s next? The anxiety attacks? The suicidal thoughts? I can’t be here. I have to leave.

I can’t exactly come to terms with why I erupted into that state. Maybe I was due for that kind of emotional episode. It has been a while. So I was there thinking to myself, “Why can’t I explain how I feel?” “What’s my reason?” “I’m annoying him.” “I blew it out of proportion.” “I don’t feel right” “I’m not happy.” But all at the same time I couldn’t think of words, I was just feeling those questions. Then, it came. The familiar anxiety of my hands and the feeling to just throw a tantrum with my body, the heavy breathing, the blankness of my mind, the tears coming down my face. And it happened as I lay in his arms, a place I held sacred and now securing my down trying to coo me as I tried to seek some control back of my body. It wasn’t until he secured my hand and pinned my head down with his and held me down did I allow the pressure to calm me. And then I was exhausted. 

You are the full moon and I’m your sun. I’m bright and sometimes clouds get in the way of that but so does it for you. You reflect my shine and radiate even when things are dark. I’ve seen phases throughout my life where made my shine look incomplete and they come and go and some day so will you but for now, i look at you and phases are not people but days that lead back to you. 

Things are changing. I’m going through another change. And I’ll go through another and another and endless moments. But I want to make sure I document myself. They say the internet lasts forever so maybe this will. Maybe someone will learn from my mistakes and successes. Even though I spent all day sitting in this office staring that this computer, playing the typing tests to increase my typing abilities, convince myself that I can solve that rubicks cube at some point, and eat less because I want to lose weight. There are somethings I had in mind. First, I think I need to go through some time of self reflection. I need some time to reevaluate what I want and who I am because I can slowly feel like I going through the tides and at this moment. If I’m going to have to take big steps, I have to know where they are going. I need to figure out my feelings about my religion, my sex life, my goals for the future, how I will achieve my dreams, and why I need to. I need to understand again - not that I fully did in the first place, but I want some assurance that I’m getting there. I need to get there.

I give in. I give up.  What’s the use in changing all that I am and want to be to only feel beaten. I know I should talk to people. I know I should find help. I know I should use my resources and relieve whatever weight is still pulling me after so many years. It’s not fair that I tossed it onto him. But I’m trivial. I’ve been told that and I’ve been telling myself that for years, but I’m good at not making people feel like that. It’s the only thing I’m good at. To minimize myself so much so people can feel better. It’s the only thing I’ve invested in so much - to know how to be able to talk to people. But apparently, I can’t even get that right sometimes. So here I am full circle again but just in a different shade. This time it’s a little bit darker and a little deeper. This situation digs a little deeper more than my deepest wound. It digs in and digs whatever in me out until I just give in. How many times is my character going to be put into question? How many times are my words gonna be carried unpalatably? How many times will my actions carry insults? How many times will I have to silently absorb verbal lash after verbal lash poured over with guilt and set ablaze by spite and disgust? I can’t stand up to change it. I’ve tried and I’ve said my peace many times to only be lashed a little bit deeper. I’m getting older and a little bit freer but I’m also getting more tired and more hopeless. I’ve been so emotionally burdened for so long that sometimes I only look forward to putting enough energy to get up. At least I got up. 

I have no right. Standing there with everything given to me, paid for me, fed to me, cared for me, I stand with no baggage. Apparently. But I stood there with something else, with tears at the edge of my eyes and my body stiff with fear of making a move that would steer the wrong way. Something was weighing on me. Words. Piercing, heavy words that are beaten into my skin, into my ears, into my heart, making it difficult to breathe and control the tears from falling over. Difficult for me from falling over. In the span of a few minutes have you ever felt your whole being - all your accomplishments, all your efforts, all your pride - just beaten by words. To feel so demeaned and invalidated that you don’t want to be anymore. As they refused eye contact - any contact - and kept me at a distance with their sharp weapons extended across the air piercing at me over and over again. I’m not a respectable and capable to respect person. I’m not someone who is worth holding opinions. I’m not worth affection. I’m not worth understanding. I’m not worth more than their property - inanimate and obedient. My passions are threats. My opinions are insults. My tone is explosive. My apologies are empty. I am empty - drained of efforts to be the property they maintained - polished and displayed with minimal words and whispered sounds of “okay…thank you…I’m sorry..I understand..” I have no right. I am wrong - always wrong. In times of chance, I’m not preventative enough. In times of recklessness, I’m unforgiven. In times of lapse, I’m damaged. I haven’t heard the words I love you in weeks. I rarely hear words of interest in my life. I haven’t heard apologies ever. So I stood there and whatever strength I had I walked back to solitude and let my legs fall from under me - contemplated really collapsing.

Dear God, please give me strength to make it through this pain. Please give me courage to not cause myself any more. I beg you to not allow me to breach this skin with knives or sharp objects that serve no purpose but a minor distraction. Help me get through this. Because right now, I can’t get through this.

My body can’t take this. My head is aching, and I can’t find enough air to breathe before it all comes out of me again. I’m so weak but my body is urging me to cut across some skin to feel something other than this - to take the weight off my shoulders and shake the anxiety in my bones. I’ve been nothing but waiting for the verdict of my offenses and the wait has eaten any hope I have. I messed up. I’m guilty. Just leave me to rot already. I don’t deserve happiness and I don’t deserve to play the victim. That’s been heard too many times. And all I want to do is sleep or feel nothing or just not be me for a while. I want to give up so bad. I want to quit my efforts to fix and reconcile the rift I’ve caused. But I can’t wait any longer. I can’t sit staring at the clock hoping for time to meet an end. 

Lust is a dangerous thing. The side of me I’ve always kept in wraps because I didn’t know how to express it. The part I never showed to anyone but strangers and distant boyfriends. That part of me is out there. I’ve been screwing around in cars, rooms, couches, and cramped spaces in a hunger for a feeling and touch I’ve only dreamt of. I’ve dreamt it so much that now I’m pushing the line of my boundaries further and further back. Who am I? Is this what sexual freedom? How does that affect me spiritually? I’m stuck in a rut. I just need a little more control and reflection because I’m just following the fluctuations of my needs. That’s dangerous.

Wow another year and I still feel the empty gut feeling. Maybe it’s the hormones that were shot through my body or maybe its the gray weather outside, but I can’t shake the feeling of emptiness. I can’t shake the feeling that I don’t belong to my family, to my friends, to my job. I don’t feel like I matter to them. I wish I was more resilient and didn’t let it bother me. I wish I could be indifferent and go about my day for myself. It just kind of sucks when it happens with people that matter to you. Because I’ve pursuing my goals and not devoting my time and attention to singular parts of my life, that they’ve all deemed me as not enough. And that’s what I feel. I feel the inside jokes and end to invitations. I feel the lingering judgement. I feel it all. And I can’t help but retract myself further and not say a word. I just absorb the feeling and let it scar me like all the other ones I hide. 

The amount of anxiety I feel right now is so unbearable. I’m paralyzed by the very amount of failures I have and mistakes I’ve committed and tasks I’ve accumulated. How am I not cutting again. How am I not standing on the top of garages. How I am I not on rooftops. I’m sick with pain I don’t have bruises for. The feeling in my stomach wants me to give up. I want to give up. 

Oh God, what have I done? I pushed my ideals of promiscuity too far and now I’m here, counting the days, analyzing the symptoms and going through episodes of panic because I fear my future is in the hands of 2 single cells within my body. I’m so scared. I can feel my future slipping out like the lump in my throat. 

I’ve been sitting here for a couple of hours getting the courage to write this essay. I don’t know why it scares me so much. I think it’s finally putting my thoughts about my future on a paper and having it finally judged by other people. For a while, teaching has just been a desire that has hasn’t been disputed, criticized or even validated. Now I have to put it all down without any sense of emotion that could invoke my convincing charm to have them believe. They’ll have to just read my bare words at the value indicated by the reader. I guess I’m scared at one look, they’ll see that I’m not fit to be what I’ve thought about for 15 years. 15 years. I haven’t changed what I wanted to be. Looking at myself, I look so foolish. To give myself some credit, I have manipulated it into something more realistic, but at the very end of the day, I haven’t explored the world. You know when people say your dreams aren’t big enough if they don’t scare you. Well teaching science terrifies me. I can’t tell if I’m good enough, but I want to be. I so want to be. It’s been very blind of me not to ask the esteemed  members of the community who have done this for years, but something in my bones wants this - at least to try. I want to demand the best from people and the esteem that each child deserves the most of. I want to demand the well-being of their minds pushing them into unordinary crevices where they can discover there is more than just dust it the corner of the room. But if they don’t believe in science, for them to know that it holds a truth that will help them discover and experiment their own truths of their own lives. That’s what why I want to be a teacher.

The minute I decide to have expectations is the minute I’m disappointed. Maybe that’s why I’m so out of wack. I’ve been met with so many disappointments that I’ve gone to the point of, “So what?”. How do I expect anyone to do anything I say when I can’t fulfill my own tasks. I’m so stressed. I don’t even have anything to do right now and I’m stressing over that. What else can I do to dispel this because I have no ideas. I just want to be at the level I expect myself to be at. I can’t. I’m so stressed. I can’t. 

I’ve never been so exhausted in my life. I’ve either taken on so much that I’m mentally falling through the cracks or I’m suffering my bad habits. Either way, my mind, body, and spirit are literally broken down. I want to sleep all the time. I also can’t seem to stay up because my body demands sleep. Therefore, my grades and duties suffer. It has gotten to the point where I feel like taking time to eat is a waste of time. I’m so tired. I’m not sure if I can handle several more months of this. How do people handle school? It doesn’t help that I’m trying to work extra hours to actually have my own money to support my independence. It doesn’t help that I’ve taken the weight of a community on my shoulders. I’m happy to do all of it, theoretically. In actuality, I just want to feel like I’m doing something with my life. Don’t even get me started on my social life.

Thank you for being so patient with me. Thank you for being understanding. Thank you for always respecting my decisions. I can’t not replay what has happened between us and I hope you know that of all people, I’m happy it was with you. I love you so much and I just want you to make sure you know that any bad feelings I had was not because of anything you did specifically. You were everything I could ask for at that moment.