Feelings?

I'm not sure when it happened but sometime within the past 5 or 6 years I've trained myself to be ashamed of having emotions. I guess part of it is after those terrible teen age years the emotional roller coaster has slowed down and is now more like an emotional mini van. So feeling strongly about things happens less often then it did before. Emotions are a natural and healthy thing for a person to experience, but for some reason I don't always feel entitled to them. I feel especially strange if I express said emotions to someone else. If I'm ever angry, sad, scared or whatever and I break down and tell someone how I feel... DISASTER!!! I feel so incredibly embarrassed and uncomfortable. It's hard for me to know how to talk to that person after they know how my brain works. I don't want to talk to them. I don't want to look them in the eye. I want nothing more than to dig a deep dark empty pit and just lay in it. People feel things, and that's okay. Just not for me.

Nobodys Perfect

This might be a touchy subject for some people. Not that anyone reads this blog anymore, but if you do: I'm not trying to be offensive! I just need to vent!

So there's a lot of times in my life where really fat women have made fun of me for having small boobs. And as far as I can remember it's only ever fat women.

Yes, I do have small boobs. I have small boobs because I am a small person. You have big boobs because you are a big person.... See how that works?? If I gained 80 pounds I'd most likely have big boobs too. As well as big everything else!

(And yes I know there are those super lucky girls who are skinny with a big chest but let not go into that!)

I would never, ever, in a hundred years make fun of someone for being fat. That would be a terribly rude and heartless thing to do. So why do people think it's okay to make fun of someone for being little? Making fun of anyone for how their body looks is cruel and tasteless. I have to hold myself back every time.

"You have tiny boobs!"
"Yeah, well you're a whale."

.... No. I would never. But SHUT UP ABOUT MY BODY!

Derp.

I thought going back to school would make me feel smarter. I assumed that getting a promotion meant I was more capable than I had been previously. I thought I'd feel better about and more comfortable inside my own brain as time went on. But when I do my school assignments, I'm never happy with them. At work I feel like I don't know a damn thing. The older I get the less comfortable I become in my level of maturity and intelligence. This could be because I am constantly challenging myself. I went for a new job, even when I didn't feel ready. Twice! I went back to school even though I feel like one of those people who doesn't belong there. I am surrounded by people older than me. Most of my friends are older than I am. I've been the youngest in my position level at work for almost a year. Even my boyfriend is seven years older than me. I just feel like I'm spending a lot of time playing catch up. And living with this intense hope that no one else can tell.

More than anything I want to sink back into a quiet, dark, inconspicuous little existence.Where I can do what I want without being noticed, live a supremely unimpressive life and have nothing expected of me. But it's like I have two voices in my head. The quieter one is more persuasive, and keeps me dragging the loud, terrified, uncomfortable voice along, through whatever new adventure I'm told to pursue.

Confessions

Sometimes it feels like I have these large pieces missing from me. Like I have these holes straight through my body that everyone else can see. Like everyone can tell I'm not finished.

I don't know if I'm scared to talk to my friends, or if I know better. I'm scared they won't care, because no one seems to anymore. I'm scared they'll make things worse. I'm scared I'll feel like I've lost control. I don't know if I'm being paranoid, or if I'm learning.

I can't tell if I don't know how to ask for help, or if I'm strong enough not to.

I don't know why I have to go to extremes. It's all or nothing. And I get stuck in nothing. It's scary... I feel like I'm making progress. I know I'm doing damage. I can't find a way out. Addiction is powerful. And comes in many forms... I know I was looking for it. But was I looking for this?

Why is it so easy for people to walk out of my life without explanation? I know people grow apart. I know friendships don't last forever. I know mistakes are made that can't be fixed. But why is it so common for people in my life to disappear? Am I just often in the presence of very weak people? Or very rude people? Or do I make it hard for people to leave? Oddly enough it's always the people who mean the most who do this... Curiouser and curiouser...

I'm weird. I know I'm weird. Lately I even feel the weird happening as it happens. I can't stop it. Mid weirdism I notice it, and then it gets weirder. The weird is getting awkward. The awkward is getting uncomfortable. The uncomfortable is getting old.

I wonder where these dreams go
When the world gets in your way
What's the point of all this screaming?
No one's listening anyway.

My Declaration

There is no such thing as a perfect person. I am no exception. I have a bad temper. I'm prone to procrastination, pessimism, self hatred, dishonesty, jealousy, selfishness, self harm, sarcasm and many other bad qualities I won't go into for the sake of saving time. I was okay with myself for a long time. Lately however, I'm learning to battle myself again. It seems the more alone I am, the less I like myself. The less I like myself, the more alone I become. I hurt people. Sometimes accidentally, sometimes on purpose, sometimes without knowing it at all. I want to become someone who brings nothing but happiness to other people. I want to learn to appreciate the good in every single person I meet. I want to learn how to forgive properly. I want to be a person worth knowing, because right now, I don't feel that I am. I realize this is why I am so alone. I've spent too much time working on my friendships, working on how other people see me. I see my flaws now. I see that I need to focus on me. When I can like myself again, I'll work on introducing that person to new people. Maybe in the future I'll be better at holding on to the people I love. So while I wish I could make a declaration about how I am going to be a better friend and help people out more, I can't. All I can do is promise to work on me. The rest... well, I'll get back to you.

These feelings and thoughts: Brought to you by weeks of introspection.

The inspiration to write it out and post it to the gaping Internet void:
http://youtu.be/eVDXzZabTaI

Sorry Michael, No quite what you were looking for.

Finished

Surrounded in my bubbly, warm happy place, I expected to feel more comforted. I haven't had the accommodations to relax and take a bubble bath in nearly a year. This is where I always went when I felt negative emotions. Sadness, stress, frustration. Somehow now it is not the same. I have enough bubbles. I have my book, my wine, a friend to text and confide in. But here I am, lifting my leg up, watching the small avalanche of bubbles slowly make it's way back into the water. Submerging my face, concentrating on exhaling; a steady flow of evenly sized bubbles. This used to calm me down. But now, in this soggy, wet atmosphere, I'm not sure where condensation ends and tears begin.


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Location:W Sophia St,Carson City,United States

A Good Day

I just had a really pleasant day I would like to document. Woke up feeling well rested. I didn't have a headache for the first time in a few weeks. Which was admittedly only because I had this super mysterious dream where I had a headache. I woke up from the dream at 4:00am and had a headache. So I took an Advil and went back to sleep; securing a comfortable morning for myself 3 hours later.

After waking up feeling quite well I went to get ice on the way to my job at the church. The gas station I always stop at never has ice ready. They advertise it but it's never there. They have to go to the back and waste their and my time and bag it up during their early morning rush. It might be cruel of me but I've kept going there just waiting for the day they wise up and bag some ice before it gets busy, before Sunday morning. Every Sunday morning. At the exact same time. Today, they caught on.

So I got my ice in time and therefore got to work on time and had a really good time making coffee and talking with my co workers. I went home after work at cleaned the apartment. Listening to music and dancing like a fool. Home alone, and having fun. Arthur got home, we relaxed together for a bit. After a while we did the last of the cleaning just in time to invite some friends into our home. I haven't had that many people in my home since last summer so I was a little bit nervous but things worked out well. We spent a really fun few hours playing board games with Josh, Tyler, Alisha and Katie. Four people I did not know this time last year. A nice reminder that there will always be new people to meet and new friends to make. I just wanted to post a little reminder to myself that even though there are a lot of stressful days. Some days are a lot of fun. Even when nothing particularly interesting happens. Life is good. =)

Live and Let Live

I keep wanting to write a post about this thing on my mind. This weird way everyone seems to be thinking and feeling that I am just not getting. But every time I try, I end sounding ambivalent. Which I am not. I can't find a way to express this situation. It's driving me a little bit crazy.

Dirty Little Secrets

I'm hoping to blur the lines a little bit between my two blogs. I have this one, in which I'm very filtered. An awful lot of this blog is me, trying to convince myself of something. I have a second blog; a very raw and honest place. A completely private place. I think I should start opening up to the world a little more. I know it's just a little blog that hardly anyone reads, but it's a start.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iThing

"The past is a candle at great distance: too close to let you quit, too far to comfort you.”

- Amy Bloom

I stumbled across this picture today. My kindergarten class. A Facebook friend uploaded it a few years ago. That's me, second from the right on the top row. Can't see too well from this picture but I looked like a boy. Short hair, because I liked to play with scissors. I was the tallest one in the class. And everybody loved me. I always say that kindergarten was my best year. It's when the most people liked me. My classmates used to fight over who got to play with me on recess. I was a cool kid. Always happy, energetic and creative. I'm still friends with some of those kids. Sam, Laura, Avi, Allyson. I have a few more on my Facebook. Some I only remember from this class. Some I don't remember at all. And as far as I know only one is no longer with us. (RIP Riley.) I remember the smallest things from this class. The clean up song, the playground, the sink (don't know why), The rug we all used to sit on fro story time...

Nostalgia don't see like a strong enough word. I wish I had known then how beautiful those days were. I was rarely unhappy. Life was fun and simple. I wish I had known how fondly I would look back on it. But, how can a 6 year old know these things? How do you know what you'll miss? What you'll look back fondly on...

I miss kindergarten, it was just before people started making fun on me. Before I became a "dork." I don't miss the rest of elementary school, people were mean to me. I miss middle school. I started having friends again, and started feeling like a real person. I miss freshman year of high school. Grades were good, dance, band, friends... Life was fun. I don't miss the rest of high school. I don't miss the year after high school, living at "The Heezy," wasting oxygen. I miss last year sometimes, things were hard but I had the best friends I've ever had. This past year... Who knows? I think I'm still too close to it to know. And right now... I wonder if I'll miss these days. I guess it depends on where life goes from here. You miss the times that were better than the times that fallow... So in a way, I kind of hope I don't miss this. I don't want to miss my job, because I want a better one. I don't want to miss my boyfriend, because I'd like to keep him. I don't want to miss this apartment, because I don't want to make another step down.

I guess it all comes down to living in the moment. Why miss anything if you're making the most of what you have now? Why wish for a time machine when you're exactly where you want to be? And why not be where you want to be? There's no reason for that.

Woops

Ever have one of those moments when you've realized you've made a drastic step backwards in the development of your emotional, physical, or spiritual advancement?

Yeah... It sucks. However with that realization you can pick yourself up and jump back on the right track. It's easier getting on the right track once you've been there before.

So thank you Me for that insight. I needed that.

Spoiler Allert, Kids!

The older I get the more frustrated I find myself becoming with the lessons they taught us as children growing up in this world. Disney teaches us that we will all find love and that love is worth any sacrifice. Our 1st grade teachers tell us we can achieve anything we want with enough hard work and we should never give up. Our parents constantly remind us that it is what's on the inside that counts.

These are all truly beautiful ideas. If the world worked this way it would be a much simpler and kinder place. And maybe that's why we were taught these ideals so young. The generations before us projecting their image of a perfect world onto us. It's a great thought. Really, it is... but life does not work this way. Don't get me wrong living your life with that kind of optimism and faith can really take you far. It's great to be so positive and you will reap the benefits. However...

You may not find love.
It's possible you'll be alone forever.
There's more to life than romantic love, and sometimes, there are thing far more important.
You cannot achieve "anything." There are many things that are impossible. And far too many things really do rely on natural talent.
You have to give up sometimes, otherwise you'll probably die at a young age over something really very stupid.
What's on the inside does matter a lot. But lets get real, life is easier for the aesthetically pleasing individual.

There are a hundred different ways I can take this thought from here. And someday I may expand on this. However today, the topic on my mind is sacrifice. One thing the sheltered 10 year old Emily had no concept of was graceful surrender. 10 year old me had no idea that loss was one of the hardest things to accept. 10 year old me was oblivious to the unavoidable lesson creeping up.
 
Give it a few years...

The first few times I lost something close to my heart I couldn't accept it. I held on to what I loved and fought for it tooth and nail. Even after the thing was gone I spent far too long holding on to what I thought was left. Had I known how much easier it was to let go. How much happier I would have been accepting the loss... It seemed like such a weak thing to do. I convinced myself that if I held on to these lost things, they'd somehow find their way back to me. Like they wouldn't have a choice. I thought I was being strong by holding on. Looking back I realize I was just too weak to abandon my delusions.

So here we reach one of the most difficult things I found about "the real world." Knowing when giving up is the bravest thing you can do. Knowing when letting go is the right course of action and accepting that you may have to hurt people, to do the right thing. I see so many people dragging their loved ones through hell just to hold onto a sliver of hope for a happy ending encompassing the team. I do believe that love is the most powerful thing on this earth. I think if you've found a connection that sparks and feeds off itself and lights the way thought the tough times, you should hold onto it tightly and give it your all. I also think that if you love someone (romantic or platonic) you should be willing to do what's best for them. At no, little or great sacrifice.

I'm NOT crazy!

I want to walk around in my own home in my pj pants/shorts and a tank top and not feel self conscious.

I want to eat the food I buy for myself.

I want to be comfortable leaving my purse or wallet on my kitchen counter or living room couch. Or in my entryway or staircase or bathroom or refrigerator or ... anywhere that isn't under the bed I'm sleeping on!

I want my house to not smell like cigarettes and weed.

I want to get a full day's sleep without being woken up by loud phone conversations and ridiculous video game sounds.

I want to listen to my music while getting ready for work and not feel stupid for singing along and jammin' out.

I want to not be too embarrassed by my messy house to have my boyfriend come over and keep me company.

I don't want to feel I have to put on makeup and brush my hair every time I leave my room for the kitchen or living room.
I want my bathroom door attached to the wall.

I want to feel safe and comfortable in my own home.

Why are people treating me like an irrational, greedy lunatic?

I've been feeling a little out of place the past week or two. I'm generally fairly happy with my life right now but something just seems off. I'm not where I want to be. I'm not sure where to go from here. Even if I did I'm not certain I'd know how to get there.

I like to think of myself not as a puzzle piece, but a puzzle, missing pieces. I've got one, maybe two sides matched up. But there's something that doesn't quite fit. It's not an empty space, but a space occupied by the wrong thing.

More of a rant than anything...

Over the past few years it's been said by many people that I'm hard to help. Because I don't ask for help. because I don't accept help. Why? I'm going to blame the bulk of this issue on my family. This is a short (believe it or not) explanation of why. Those of you close to me know the story runs deeper and there are many other  issues between my parents and I, both traumatic, and trivial. But here's my basic overview. This is also very much on my mind because the end of the story leads right up to present day.

Phase One: I suppose I've always had somewhat of a vendetta against my brother. There's typical sibling rivalry we all feel at a young age. "I can run faster than you!" "My slice of cake is bigger than yours!" "I broke the big side of the wishbone!" "Dad loves ME more!" And countless other competitions throughout the years as we grow older and find new things we want to win at. Being three years younger than my brother I endured a  nice long eight or nine year losing streak. He could argue better. He knew more. And he was of course bigger, stronger, faster and in most ways just more advanced then I was. These first years of constant failure, I can let go of.

Welcome to the world younger sibling. Better get used to it.

Phase Two: Entering our adolescence was, as it is for all teenagers, a strange and painful experience. Soon after my brother entered high school he stumbled upon this new phase of delinquency. Drinking, fighting, smoking, drugs, and general mayhem. I watched my little family struggle through this ordeal as I assume most families do. Disobedience leading to punishment. Punishment evoking further acts of rebellion retorted with more discipline and so and and so forth.

As I entered the same years I distinctly remember feeling shorted on the whole ordeal. Were our parents more strict on me than they had been on him? Did he seem to get away with a lot more than I did? I wondered, even then, if it was all in my head. I realize now with what I see as a fairly objective stance, despite my biases, that no, it was no delusion. My parents had seen what adolescence had done to my brother so they in turn tightened their grip on me. I didn't get into too much trouble really. Yes, I drank some alcohol (first handed to me by my brother.) I smoked some marijuana (handed to me by my brother.) I attended a few parties (usually hosted or co-hosted by my brother.) But looking back, I wasn't a bad kid in the grand scheme of things. My grades faltered as I began to suffer from depression. But no one really looked at the cause of the issue. They just saw the report card. However it always seemed to me that precious Aarons' feelings and state of well being was closely monitored. The second phase of our rivalry left a bad taste in my mouth that no future parental praise or bottle upon bottle of mouthwash could dilute.

Phase Three: Soon after high school graduation I moved out of my parents house, leaving parents and brother behind. "Why don't you call more?" "Why can't we stop by?" Because I'm a bitter, angry, disdainful person with a chip on my shoulder the size and awkward shape of Mt. Rushmore. I had been on my own for a good year and a half before my brother finally got a place that wasn't in Mommy and Daddy's house. *Keep in mind he's three years older than me.* Eventually I had to move back into my parents place because my roommate stopped being able to pay rent and I needed a place to crash until I found a new place. Feeling my upper hand loosening I was desperate to once again be on my own.

My parents decided to take a year traveling in the states. They agreed I was the one who could be trusted to look after their house and entitled me with all the authority I could ask for. If I didn't want Aaron around I could kick him out. If he gave me serious trouble I could even change the locks. The idea of having a full house to myself sounded great. Until I realized electric bills plus gas to get out there every day really wasn't saving me any money at all. I was just doing my family a favor. And I was okay with that. Until my brother lost yet another job and in turn lost his apartment. No where to go I agreed to let him stay with me for a while. Not long after that I caught him stealing my money from me. I kicked him out. ... Correction, I tried to kick him out. My parents wouldn't hear of it and insisted I let my thief brother stay with me.

Because they were scared where he'd end up they flew him down to Nevada and put him up for a few months. I was only slightly put off by this. They were supporting him. Buying him food, giving him a free place to live, all that good stuff while I was up in Alaska struggling to make ends meet. "Do I get caught up on electric bill? Pay off my dentist or go to a chiropractor?" But he was out of my hair, so I was, for the most part, content. Until they decided to send him back to me, again insisting he stay with me.  At this time they also threw out my rule of not letting his creepy friends come to the house. All my power thrown away for my brothers comfort.

Just as I began to think my bitterness had reached it's peak, Aaron told me what he had in his bank account. The amount stated being more than three times the amount I have to my name. When he's been out of work for months and I've been working as much as possible since I turned sixteen. How is it I strive to be completely self sufficient, work hard for everything I have, budget my funds like a motherfucker and I still come out financially behind my deadbeat, lazy-ass brother who's been out of work for months and can't hold down a job to save his life even when he does have one?

Conclusion: On a moral and ethical standing of the battle of the Boreckis, I've clearly won. Hands down. After all of this I know I've come out a better person because of it all. I have possibly too much pride and piles of self-assurance. But does it stop me from being angry as hell at the injustice of my entire family dynamics? No.

And this (along with so many other, smaller reasons) is why I have such a hard time asking for help. I have been working on it but I'm not sure if I'll ever shake the feeling of always having something to prove.

Identity Crisis

"I don't care about the past, I believe in the power to reinvent yourself." - Lex Luthor (Michael Rosenbaum) in Season One of Smallville.

This is one of my favorite quotes. Such strong belief in the dominance over his own own identity is initially inspiring. I look back at pictures of me in high school, or even just last year and there's a part of me that feels very detached from the girl I see. Who was she? Who is she now? Time disregarded, how much metaphysical space can be created between a previous and current individual? To what depth is this change capable of achieving? I love knowing people can, and often do, adjust their actions and disposition to become better versions of themselves. However the longer I think about this purported reformation the less I find myself having any faith in it at all. One might question, if after a considerable magnitude of development, how they can be held to the same identity as before. Is it possible for a being to undergo enough characteristic modification to become another person entirely? Is the reformed sinner truly a new man? Or has he merely been brought back to an innate setting, balancing out a natural assemblage of good and evil? To me, the practicability to an absolute recreation of the core components of personality seems impossible. I believe there are key points forming an identity that belong to a set of some irremovable primordial cluster of traits. These inborn attributes are brought to the forefront of complexion by varying factors and experiences. Whether the evolution of self is progressing in a positive or negative direction I think the action manifests by a brightened spark that can neither be added nor removed from within the individual. Is it possible for someone to reinvent himself, such as my favored quotes sates? No, I don't think so. Sorry Smallville, not this time.

Yes. Exactly.

I've tried to put this subject into my own words countless times. But discussing religion is a tricky thing. But basically this video says it all. Here goes...

"You'll get by without me if you want."

I over think most things. Those who are close to me know this. I'm scared of hurting people. I'm scared of getting hurt. But honestly, playing it safe all the time is working against me. I spend so much of my life in fear. I'm constantly worried about what other people are thinking, or how they will react to something I do, say, or feel. I'm sick of it. I didn't used to be this way. It's just so difficult to do something again, that's hurt so terribly in the past. But dammit... I'm tired of hiding how I feel. I'm tired of being scared. I'm not doing it anymore. If you can't handle how I feel, or the way I act, I don't need you. If I feel more strongly than you do, so what? I'm an emotional and passionate person. Fucking deal with it.

Directions

I can see very specific paths set out in front of me right now. There are three ways I can see my life going from here, all in the short term. There's one I definitely do not want. I know this for a fact and I refuse to let it become my future. However there are two more I want to pursue. I want two different things from life right now. And I'm trying desperately to figure out a way to combine them. It would take some cooperation, some sacrifice and some very stable common ground. It is possible, I can see that. But I don't want to be presumptuous. I don't want to rush life. I don't want to force anything. However, If it's what I want, why not just take it? There are just some things I will not live without.

"It's all fun and games..."

"It's more scared of you than you are of it."
So that's why it's going to hurt me?

"Survival of the fittest."

Kill or be killed, right?

"All's fair in love and war."

So what's the difference?

*sigh*
I don't much like these games.