Undone

Okay, I'm not happy with who I am. I'm certainly not perfect...I don't claim to be. I make mistakes. I'm not always proud of what I am. But how do these truths freely give anyone the right to judge me? I was pretty sure everyone makes mistakes. Everyone grows differently. But as usual, I am made to feel ostracized, singled out, and just plain wrong. I will never be good enough to love. I've realized that at a very young age. My therapist told me that I was required to feel this way --protective over myself and others, belittled, abandoned-- when I was very young. I guess I never thought of it that way. But it's true. For as long as I can remember, I've felt like those closest to me in life have told me that I'll never be good enough to love. People have told me over the years that that's ridiculous to say. No one makes me feel that way, according to them. But I have proof. Years and years of proof. And certainly a pretty fucked up life to show for it.

I don't know how to love anyone. The only ways I've learned to love others are deemed "unhealthy". And I've never learned to love myself. I bask in self-destruction. It's unfortunate, but oh-so-very true. I destroy myself with poisonous relationships, substance abuse, self-harm, solitude. I've never learned any other way to deal with my self-hatred. I disgust myself. I have to hide myself away from those around me. People like me are weapons. We are shiny on the outside, sometimes attractive to people. We attract attention. We seem exciting, different. But then when people get too close, we destroy them. We disgust them. They see us for what we really are and they want nothing to do with us. That is me. Nothing good follows me. I will never be able to truly elicit love from another human being.

The Final Chapter

Loving you has been the single most joyous and simultaneously miserable thing I've ever had to do. I have loved you in ways that I'm not sure I can love another...and you have loved me back just the same. Everything is ruined. Everything is fucked up. Without you, I don't know who I am. But I don't think anything will be the same with you. I am so hurt over what you did...but mostly I'm hurt because I'm forcing myself to stick to my word. I've obviously made mistakes. Lots of people might have treated you better. But no one, I can guarantee, will ever love you the way I do. The way I always will. More than anything I wish I could take so much back. From both of us. More than anything I just want us to be okay. But we're not. I don't know if we ever will be.

Sitting here in this place, driving through Brooksville, walking into my own home all remind me of you. Every memory I have reminds me of you. The ones before you became you, the ones after you revolved around you. I have nothing outside of you. It's just ridiculous that I find that out too late. You used to think that I had my own life and then you, that I couldn't live my life for us. You were so wrong. Everything I do, every moment of everyday, you are the only thing on my mind. My first thought, my only concern, the last thing I want at the end of the day. Hugging you tonight and saying goodbye was the single hardest thing I think I've ever had to endure. I hate knowing that it might have really been goodbye forever.

At the same time, I hate thinking of you with her. You were with her while I was trying to get ahold of you all night...with only your wellbeing in mind. All I wanted was for you to get home safely, but really you were safely in the arms of another girl. It's just too late. I want to just stop being able to feel anything. I don't want to love you anymore, I don't want to love anyone. I don't want to feel this misery again. I don't want to feel alone. I want to feel dead inside. There is a way, of course, but I made a promise to you. But what do our promises mean anymore? Maybe I'll just do it one last time. One final time. It's so tempting. I don't want to hurt anyone anymore, but I feel like I might as well die if I don't have you.

I've fooled myself for so long that my life doesn't revolve around you, that I don't define myself with another. But honestly, I have no definition anymore. There is nothing that I want to do without you. There is no one left to be without you. I once thought that after everything in my life, I had felt every heartache possible. Nothing can compare to the one I feel now. Nothing has ever made me feel so helpless, so alone, so broken. I don't know how you feel. I hope that you care, but I also hope that you can move on. I just want this pain to subside. I just want my heart to stop beating, because every beat belongs to you.

I own nothing of myself. I gave it away a long time ago. And there is nothing I'll be able to get back. Without you, I will be but a shell of my former self. Empty. Shattered. Dead.

Dangerously Near to the End

I suppose there was a time in my life when I thought I knew who I was. Things made sense. At least in a "I'm still figuring life out so it's okay things don't actually make sense," kind of way. But now, I'm quickly approaching my twentieth birthday with little more wisdom than when I was eighteen. Things that once seemed to make sense now seem off-kilter, and quite frankly, I don't know what to do with it anymore.

The frequent elimination of my brain cells seems like a good place to start. I have been drinking my sorrows away for as long as I can remember...but lately, I find myself remembering less and less of life because I'm under the influence of [insert drug of choice] more than I am under the influence of my own mind. Both being equally terrifying and inappropriate, it hardly seems to matter which it is. However, I would like to say, "Wow, that was a fun night," more often than, "I don't even remember what happened." So, alcoholism runs in my family. Not to mention there was a time when coming home everyday and drinking whiskey by myself was my solution of choice for my depression. Therefore I have a harder time than most people my age simply brushing off my drinking habits as "typical" college behavior. Especially when avoidance is my main goal. Clarity would be nice, I suppose. But that's not a very familiar feeling, sober or not.

Then, of course, there is the destruction of basically every relationship I once had. Things are literally falling down around me, and I don't know what to do. There is no amount of effort that I can foresee that would serve as the support for these failing situations. My "best" friends have their own lives, which by default means I must cater to them and have none of my own. Funny how high school doesn't end, eh? Then there is the fact that five years of problems have accumulated themselves into a relationship with my boyfriend existing of little more than casual conversation one might have with a receptionist at a doctor's office. Oh, and I'm apparently selfish, putting myself above everyone else in my life. Said to me, verbatim. If ever I've laughed at an insanely painful insult, it was then. "Putting myself above others" would, by definition, have to entail caring for myself enough to try. And, of course, completely ignoring the eternal, undeniable need to please everyone in order to feel accepted. That's only something I haven't gotten over in two decades of living...but it seems logical, no?

So, in essence, this is the problem: I am giving up. I mean, honestly, what do I have left? I once thought that the constant inferiority complex and feelings of worthlessness were a result of adolescence. It was something I would grow out of and overcome through growth and success. I don't usually "scoff", but let's just say that seems appropriate in this case. I now find that there is something innately wrong with who I am. I am unacceptable in the eyes of those around me. And these are not ignorant bystanders judging from a distance. No, these are people who say they love me. These are the people who know me as much as I will let them. Who can ever love me, then? Who can ever look at me and not see failure and disappointment? I have so many secrets and so many lies...what if they truly knew me? That is why I feel like I gave it a good go, but I have failed with this life. A gift freely given, with chances and opportunities, and yet all I am capable of is destruction.

I have feared for as long as I can remember that I will never find happiness. There is no one I have been and nothing I have done that has made me feel like life is worth the living. I often think that all I do is bring trouble and misery, so why stick around? Maybe I am selfish. Maybe there will never be anyone capable of breaking me because I'm already too broken.

There is one thought I have had in the past week that terrifies me more than anything. The one life-goal I've had, the only thing I've ever thought that would make my life worth anything, is having children of my own. As a woman, as a person, I feel that is my only real purpose here on earth. Not money, not success, not material things. Just children. But in the past week I have silently considered the fact that there is absolutely no way I can bring souls into this world and be responsible for them. Even the best of parents elicit resentment and animosity from their children. I have two of the most "normal" and, in my best calculations, amazing parents I've ever known, and I am still fucked up. I still resent them for things they've done to me and things they haven't done for me. I still struggle to understand them. So how can I justify doing the same to someone else? If I am incapable of running my own life, how can I allow myself to be the example for an innocent child? Although I guess on one hand, I've saved only souls that have not yet been created, I still feel that I am protecting them by never bringing them into existence. My specialty is enduring pain, not doling it out to others.

Or so I like to think...

...Or Sing Me Something Sweet

Found this after I had written my previous post...could anything be more perfect? My thoughts: "Maybe someday" will never come. No regrets --a promise I made myself at a young age. Inventory today? Far too many to count. So this is my continual warning: heed these words. Save yourself.

I found a song that I let unintentionally drop from my playlist: U2's "Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own." This was basically my anthem when I left home last August, but I still feel the exact same way when I hear it. Trying to make it doesn't ensure success. I still feel like I'm wandering aimlessly down this road. Hey..."maybe someday" I'll figure it out......

Sing Me Something Delicate

Waiting...it is the game we play, no? When is the right time? What if I move too soon? What if I move too late? If I wait, maybe it will come to me.

How many moments have passed me by because all I was doing was waiting for something? Anything really. Sometimes I feel like I'm simply waiting for anything to take me away from who I am. It's like I've waited my whole life for some single moment to define me, make all cloudy things clear. The moment seems drawn out and muddied by all of life's other moments, good and bad. Has it already come? Does it even exist? I still feel undefined, lost, and, worst of all, lying in wait for something that may never come.

Maybe it's just one of those things in life that won't happen unless you make it yourself. Perhaps I just need to grow some balls and get my life together. Define myself. The scary thing? I think I already have and I would like to do some major editing, but Webster's has already started the printing presses.

Tonight I think I defined myself as naive and credulous. How many times must I be heartbroken to understand that trust cannot exist? That saying that states "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me." An individual learns the value of these words as they put more and more years underneath their belt. There is a reason why God put into this world a system that allows the salvation of the human race. People are wretched, self-serving things...and no matter how they "try", they will always disappoint. Completely giving yourself to another person, completely loving and trusting someone besides yourself will only leave you vulnerable to inevitable misery.

They tell you so many beautiful words tonight that you want to believe, but the morning always comes. The sunshine exposes all the things the dark allowed you to ignore. When is enough enough? Have I not waited long enough for the moment to come where it was safe for me to love? A time when I could remove the caution tape from around my heart? Not yet...maybe not ever. These wounds are deep. These scars will not heal.

I think I've waited long enough.

Unchained Denial

Today I was caught in a rainstorm on my way home from campus. This was no summer shower. This was an angry, violent, sudden Florida thunderstorm. I loved every moment of it. There are few things lovelier than the sound of raindrops on your rooftop...I felt like I could drown under the falling rain.

It seems that if I'm not drowning under the rushing waves of this life than I'm wishing to be drowned beneath the falling waves somewhere.

Zero Degrees of Separation

Simply put: the very best

"And the days went by like paper in the wind. Everything changed, then changed again. It's hard to find a friend. It's hard to find a friend."

- Tom Petty

Whenever I think things are changing so much that I don't know where I stand, I am reminded that I can always stand next to these amazing women. They are all inspirational to me in some way...the simple fact that we have been best friends for almost ten years is enough to keep me going some days. No matter how far apart we may feel, we are always close in spirit. And the bonus? I never have more fun than when we are together. It's an understatement to say that things are never dull!

Random Beauty and Senseless Acts of Me

1. I should have been born early enough in the last century to live out the '50s with unmatchable style. I love Marilyn Monroe, Bettie Page, and John F. Kennedy. I adore the music, the post-war abundance, the clothes, the hairstyles, the culture.

2. I am a conservative, which is not a synonym for ignorant. I believe in Biblical marriage roles and Southern tradition, but I support successful careers outside the home for wives.

3. I am essentially a 45-year-old soccer mom stuck in a 19-year-old college student's body.

4. I can and have spent upwards of three hours in a bookstore. I consider it an intellectual obligation to read all of the classics.

5. My friends and family come before all things, second only to God. No one will ever love you like they do.

6. I appreciate my Irish heritage and take great interest in Ireland's politics. I want to learn more Gaelic and visit that beautiful isle before I die. I don't think anyone in the world knows that.

7. There are more than six billion people in this world and amazingly not even two are exactly alike...I love that.

8. I make "Top 5" lists for most topics in life. It started out as a clever way to make conversation or make a point, but now I use it as an organizational tool.

9. I have been called a pretentious asshole to my face for attending the university which I do. I feel it was unjust not in defense of my school but because I'm not.

10. I am a perfectionist to a fault. Although I'm not sure there is a form of perfectionism that isn't a fault.

11. I am one of the most feminine girls you'll ever meet, but I couldn't be farther from high maintenance. Attn: Females: Just because you are a nice-looking woman does not mean you are a princess, nor should you ever be treated as such.

12. I think MTV is the devil incarnate. Laguna Beach is the reason why the rich shouldn't get tax breaks. Super Sweet 16 is the exact representation of excess in America. Next and Room Raiders explain in thirty minutes the divorce rates in the United States. Our parents told us that MTV was bad for us...if only our generation had listened.

13. I love the website Post Secret and religiously visit it every Sunday. However I refuse to share it with anyone I know. They could never appreciate it the way it should be appreciated.

14. I am a complete music snob. I hoard bands that I "discover" and then get insanely irritated when they get popular enough that friends ask, "Have you heard of [insert once awesome band]?"

15. I feel that my entire life is leading to one single moment: having children. I want to impart to them the knowledge I wish I had...but I know that they will resent me in some way. It is what I consider to be the real circle of life.

16. I am your typical "good girl", but I have done things that most people in my life don't even know about. I live a dichotomous lifestyle.

17. There is nothing more I would love than to be "happy", but, not only do I believe it doesn't exist, I often think I am my happiest when wallowing in depression.

18. As much as I would love to be the girl in Maxim that guys drool over, I value being modest and classy more than finally having my physique openly appreciated.

19. Taking care of one's body is the equivalent of taking care of one's new car. You wash it once a week, wax it every so often, change the oil every 3,000 miles, and pay attention to any warning lights so you can eventually trade it in to glean some value from your used good. Maybe God will appreciate getting His merchandise back in good shape. Maybe He'll up your trade-in value.

20. I just want to make a difference in this world. My greatest fear is being made useless by time.

Here's To You, Disappointment

I find myself feeling of late that I am on the path to nowhere. It's not to say that I can't foresee success down this particular road or that there is nothing good at the end of this journey, but rather that this path is leading me nowhere I thought I'd be. I always imagined myself getting away from this place for a few years, proving that I can survive alone in New York, London, L.A., Chicago, Washington D.C., even Atlanta, making money changing this world in even some miniscule way, and then returning to my small, rural hometown to raise a family. I wanted to be a writer, an artisit, a powerful businesswoman. I can still be these things, just not the way I thought I wanted it.

The past few years have forced me into staying here. My family and I are much too close for me to be any substantial distance away from them. I allow them to guilt me into compromising all of my desires for my life. Moreover, I have a man I plan to marry in the next three years here. He is a firefighter, so taking him along on my "dream" life adventure is not necessarily realistic...and that would be a significant modification to the plan in itself. So I suppose I've come to the realization that my life journey is officially and permanently altered. Instead of those things I imagined myself being and doing, I will be the girl who married her high school sweetheart, started a family in her mid-twenties, got a decent job, and lived unexceptionally ever after.

Although it is not of an intellectual capacity, it will hopefully give me something of which to be proud. I cannot sit here and even insinuate that I didn't want this path, too or that I find anything in the world more important than raising my own family. Rather, I guess I simply find it easier to blame my loss of hope for my dreams on circumstances than my own desires. There will always be that other path that I didn't take...it would be the same if I did move far, far away from here. I would always think, "What if I had stayed?" I just hope that in ten years regret will stop haunting me long enough to enjoy the life I'll be leading.

Sitting here in this moment, I realized that I make my deepest fears and secrets globally public with the intense, subconscious hope that someone I know will stumble across these words and, for the first time in almost twenty years, I'll be understood. I am not the kind of individual to ever let sadness, fear, apprehension, vulnerability, or burden show. I bear all of this alone. I think it's a responsibility. Other people in the world simply choose to neglect their responsibilities. In that sense, I have some of the most irresponsible friends in existence. I am the one who must hear every "woe is me" story, day in and day out. I must bear my own burdens, secrets, and fears in addition to theirs. And this is expected of me. But I have always felt the acute need to prove, if only to myself, that I can at least handle my own emotions. I fear vulnerability and imperfection. That's why in some sense it would be such a relief for someone to hear me...minus the walls I put up, minus their own needs. Just their open mind and my blatantly honest words. I've always been in the middle of a crowded room screaming at the top of my lungs, yet no one has ever taken notice. All I want is to turn even one head...

A Little Clarity

Clarity and perspective...two things I most desparately need in my life. I've managed to find a bit of both here with the public, worldwide posting of some of my deepest secrets - secrets to which even those closest to me in life are not privy. But it has not been enough. Radical life changes of which I've been speaking and all the clutter that has muddled my thoughts has made me search within myself to find sense in the nonsensical. My search helped me to arrive at a decision a few weeks ago: the excess in my life must be cleared before I can get my life's bearings.

What Is Freedom?

Freedom...how do you define such an intangible thing? I'm sure there are many different ways to be free. I myself would define it much differently than most. Freedom is something I'm not sure I'll ever truly have. There have always been shackles around my feet. I am a prisoner by my own hands and yet I cannot escape.

But if I had my way, I would be free. I want to be free from my own insecurities, my secrets, my expectations, my naivete, my knowledge, my fear, my insanity, my obsession, my need for perfection, my obligations. They tie me down. They break my heart. I want to be free to love, to laugh. Free to understand. Free to be myself wholly. Free from compromise. Free to let people into my life, to let them get to know the real me.

Perhaps this freedom doesn't exist. Maybe there will never be a time when I feel free from myself. Maybe this is as good as it gets.

A Cautionary Tale of a Chronic Failure

I wasn't always. There was once a time when I did not simply accept flaws. But now I realize that there is no such thing as a "perfect" life, no matter how things may seem. I was valedictorian, graduated high school with my Associate in Arts degree. I was already two years ahead in college and had been accepted to my first-choice university. I didn't even apply to any others. I had friends who had stuck by my side through thick and thin. I had an amazing boyfriend...my soulmate. I had the most "normal" family any of my friends had ever known. My faith in God was unfaltering. People envied me, I think. I knew even back then that they were mistaken to do so...but now I know that they would be disgusted to know the real me.

I have always had the unfortunate ability to destroy anything good that happens to come along in my life. It wasn't until I moved away to college that I realized I had perfected it. There was a distinct moment that I recall feeling the impending, inescapable failure. I felt it lurking in the shadows of my future. I knew that the crashing down of all the things I was holding up in my balancing act was inevitable. It was. And it came with a force with which I could not contend. So how have I destroyed my "perfect" life? What is so terribly wrong with who I am today?

I hate school. I no longer want to do what I'm doing. I'm going to end up with a $70,000 a year job with too much stress and too little time for my family. Money is not important to me...it never has been. But I tricked myself into thinking it was so I decided to become a marketing analyst instead of an elementary school teacher. My entire life has been a compromise of sorts. Now there is no turning back. I let the one brief moment when I had the opportunity to change pass me by. I'll go on to get my MBA instead of a Ph.D. I'll become one of "them" and I promised myself that I would never be a member of that society. Too little, too late.

My friends no longer know me. My friends and I have always been on different levels, it's true. While they were deciding what new Abercrombie clothes to buy, I was in college classes planning for my future. While they were dealing with the most recent boy drama, the love of my life and I were planning our wedding. While they were watching Laguna Beach on MTV, I was reading The Old Man and the Sea. They may not have understood me, but they at least knew me. Now I feel like I am a world away from them. They all went to schools closer to home. I went to a school much too selective to plan the whole "We'll go to college together and be best friends forever!" We promised best friends forever, but we are all going in different directions now. That, too, was inevitable.

I am destroying my relationship with my soulmate. I have wanted to marry this man since I met him when I was but fifteen years old. The past four years of my life have been spent loyally devoting my time and future to being his wife. However, when I moved away to college I realized that I was rushing my life. I had sacrificed the entire college "experience" by getting two years of college done in high school...but that was so I could hurry up, get married, and have kids. I was rushing my future. I was rushing my self-discovery. I got scared. I was living the life of someone who no longer existed. He is still pushing for all of this, and I still want it...just not yet. I'm afraid his pushing is doing just that, but in the wrong direction. Worst of all, my fears and apprehensions are manifesting themselves into poisonous, self-destructive behaviors. I hate what I've done and I have no way of taking any of it back.

My faith is without hope. I have tried to live the life of a Christian my entire life...with many shortcomings admittedly, but I always considered myself a work in progress. I convinced myself that with all the pressures and circumstances back home, both from outside sources and within my own home, I was unable to live the life I wanted to live. I told myself that once I was out on my own, I would finally be able to become the person I wanted to be. I attended church after I moved to college. I became a member of a wonderful congregation with wonderful, faithful members. But as I realized the person I was becoming, I lost faith in myself. I began to lose hope that I was a work in progress at all. I had become damaged, stagnant, and impossible to love. God tolerates much from the human race. He loves despite disobedience, blasphemy, violence, and worse. But God does not tolerate a person who knows the truths of His word and turns their back upon Him. He is probably desperately reaching out toward me, but I cannot force myself to take His grasp. I know that I will only disappoint and hurt Him more deeply. I am an impossible soul, and for that I am most regretful.

After all of this destruction, I am but a shell of my former self. I am full of dangerous secrets and lies. I am damaged, broken, falling apart. And I have no one to blame but myself. When I was younger, I could blame my sadness, my solitude, on circumstances. I had no one who understood me or who I was. Now I am the one who cannot understand myself. That is the most painful solitude I have ever had to endure. I have ostracized myself from my own life and I am most afraid that there is no fixing this.

There is a piece of advice, a mantra if you will, that I used to live my life by: "Have patience with yourself, find the perspective to see yourself for what you are, and know that you have it in you to persevere." There is no longer anything inspirational here, only reason for more pain. I had patience with myself that I could become someone I liked, but that complacency has helped me to arrive at this very place. I clearly see who I am and exactly what it is that I've become, and it disgusts me. And I know that I have it within me to persevere, it is just that I no longer possess the desire to do so. I have given up on myself.

Self-Medication

It's been a month since my last post and it has been a typical month in my life. So many life-changing events have occurred I don't even know where to begin. First and foremost, I've been insanely sick. Inflamed liver, mononucleosis for the third time this year, strep throat for the sixth, and the news that my tonsils need to come out immediately in order to stop the madness. Surgery? Never fear. This is my third time under general anesthesia and my second serious surgery in two years. Two Decembers ago I had half my thyroid and a tumor that claimed residence there removed. Thankfully no cancer...yet. They caught it before it had a chance to turn. I always found that idea to be so odd. Cancer, tumors, illness...basically mutiny within your own body. But that is beside the point, I suppose.

My constant identity crisis and soul-searching has been drowned in late with a lovely combination of beer, liquor, and cocktails that range from tropical concoctions to the kind that will grow hair on your chest. My personal form of college "experimentation". However, being sick has forced me to take the time to soberly think about the personal issues with which I've been secretly struggling. The drinking has been a concern of mine...one of many at this point. It's not someone I'd like to be, but it is something I find hard to stop. The environment coupled with my own desire to avoid all things serious has motivated my overindulgence. Most people would say, "You're in college. It's normal. There is no problem." They're not the ones screaming at bartenders, punching strangers in the back of the heads, slapping friends, or punching windows. Wait, did I mention I can get a little violent when I'm drunk? Okay. Maybe "a little violent" was somewhat of an understatement. I get crazy. Out of hand. Ridiculous.

Wow. That whole self-denial thing really keeps you from admitting things like that. Moreover I've been thinking about how my self-denial has kept me from facing some of my emotional problems. Most of my adolescence has been spent trying to figure out who I am, who I want to be, and why I always feel the way I do.

Join the Journey

So I suppose that this blog should have technically been started in August because now I have quite a bit of back story to catch you up on. And when I say "you" I am making the bold assumption that there will be some poor soul subjected to what I'm saying here. I mean, personally I have always considered blogs to be yet another way for pretentious, self-indulgent lunatics to rant and rave about what inane things cross their minds on a daily basis. In that light, I expect nothing more than for this to be just a way for me to post my own lunacy. If I even have one other person take the time to read what I have to say, I will be utterly shocked.

With my personal feelings on blogs being made clear, you may wonder what significance August holds. August of 2005 marked the beginning of what I consider being on my "own" in this world. I started college. I live alone in a one bedroom apartment. I moved two hours from anyone or anything I've ever known. Yes, I am well aware that there are millions of people living a comparable lifestyle. In fact, there are 49,000 of them attending my college alone. But the fact that we all take that plunge out of our nests and struggle to find the strength to take flight does not at all downplay its difficulty. For some I am sure it is easier than others. Perhaps they were given some form of a flying lesson or are just innately independent, but as sure as I am of that I am even more positive that most of them are struggling to find their wings. I am a member of the latter group.

In retrospect, I am in no way the same person I was nine months ago. I used to have the understanding that life would change, but I expected the changes to come from outside sources. I was prepared to lose contact with friends, to start friendships with new ones, and to separate myself from my old life. For the most part, in fact, I welcomed the changes. I knew that mourning what I used to have was pointless so I attempted to ignore the growing fears and apprehensions in order to replace them with excitement. Before August I viewed the changes in my life as something to which my friends, family, and boyfriend would have to become accustomed. It was not until after moving that I realized that it was me who was being forced to change and become someone new. I was completely unprepared for the personal renaissance I have experienced. In simple terms, with the exception of very few things, there is nothing in my life now that existed in my prior life.

The things that are in some ways the same: my family, my closest friends, and my boyfriend. And trust me, even those things have been drastically altered by the new me. I cannot truthfully say that I am happy with the changes I see in myself. Or that I have accepted the new person I am. I have managed to avoid accepting the new me by convincing myself that this is a transition period and that I will later become the person I've always wanted to be. Secretly, though, I fear that the expectations I used to have for my future self are meaningless considering who I have become. I don't want to make myself misunderstood. I haven't turned into some monster. And I most certainly wasn't entirely pleased with the person I used to be either. It's just that when you have such high standards for yourself and you think, "When I am on my own, I'll finally be able to become that person I always wanted to be and couldn't. I get to start over. I get to leave all the crap I went through behind", and you don't meet those expectations, you can't help but feel disappointment.

Overall, simply put, I've got issues. I am more than aware of that. It's just that I always face the same question in my mind: Will I ever know what I'm doing in this life? At times, I am not so sure that I will find the direction I need. Sometimes I am not so sure I want the direction that I've got. I guess that there will always be times like these..."transition" periods I'll call them. Times when things are changing so fast that you'll miss them if you take the time to blink. Times when you don't know who you are or who the hell you're going to be tomorrow. So I invite anyone who is willing to join the journey. I can't guarantee much, but I can most assuredly say that it will be quite a ride.