My ass. I show myself to be extremely submissive and shy in life to others, but when I'm by myself I break free of my caccoon. I become someone that is outgoing, but also fucked up beyond belief. I tell people about my disorders and other things, but I never actually act it, so most people don't believe me when I tell them that I have DID, that I'm schitzotypal and schizoid, that I have major depression, that I have an Eating disorder and I love to take control of everything.
During the day, I sit back and let others run the show, but on my own I wish so badly to tkae control. My sexual tendencies are reflective of that, and most people know nothing about my sexual tastes because I don't speak a word about it. I'm basically asexual to everyone except a select few when in fact, I love being sexual. I wish sometimes, so hard, that I had the body to be in playboy or to be promiscuous, but I don't.
I found this community through oneof my favorite people in the whole world, and I know she ahs many secrets, so I won't try to intrude unless she wants me to. I greatly appreciate there being a community like this.
do you ever feel like your whole life is flying by so fast you cant even keep up with it any more. your so absorbed with this constant state of depression that you cant even deal with little things any more. i just realized im graduating highschool and going on to college. i dont even know how i got to this point in my life. im supposed to be so much more mature now, and act like a grown person, and all i can do is sit in my room and cry. i know others out there feel just like i do. i just hate how it feels like im really the only one like this.
Every time I close my eyes, I see pictures of those bombs in Baghdad. And then I see pictures of dead Americans, picturing Americans lying in shallow graves, a soldier with burns covering his body from the 12-volt battery the fucking Iraqis are using to torture our soldiers. And then I think of Paul. I fear for him so much. I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to him. I think that would send me spiraling back into the depression that I've fought so hard to come out of. I miss him so much. I wonder if he thinks of me where he is? I wonder if he thinks of the days and endless nights we spent watching movies and doing the stupid shit that he thought up. My first love...first loves are the hardest to let go. I won't let go of him. I don't want to let go of him. Even if you're not a Christian, do you think prayer still works? I've been praying for him every night, every morning, every day. Praying that he will come home safe, praying that he will see me graduate...a promise he made before he left. I don't know. I'm so afraid and so confused. I just want to see his face smiling down at me once more. I don't know. I don't know is all I can say. Goddammit! Why the fuck did we have to get involved?? His service was almost up...just waited a few short months more and it'd be okay. I spend every free moment at school looking up articles about his division...checking the names of POWs and MIA and KIA. I'm so afraid right now. I wish he was here. I wish I could hear his voice telling me he's okay. I don't know anymore. I don't know. I just don't know...
I don't know how much more disappointment I can take in life. It feels like everywhere I turn, I being disappointed. Or disappointing someone else. Everyone else. I can't seem to please anyone anymore. They're telling me to grow up, live my own life. But I can't. I don't know who I am. I've been acting different parts for so long. I can't suddenly stop this. I want to please everyone. I need to please everyone. I can't live without their praise. I thrive on praise. On doing things right. That means I'm not disappointing them. But one instant it's praise. The next it's anger. I disappoint constantly and don't know what I should do.
Here's some poetry if anyone gets bored...there are about 35 poems there...on my last site, there were 90, and I didn't like that they were all together, so I separated it. This one is called The Dark Side of Beauty, and it's about my struggles and such. So please leave me feedback if you find a particular poem you like! (or don't like!) just scroll to the bottom of whatever page you're on, and "critique" it...which means leave me some feedback about it.
This happiness that they see: it is a front, a facade that wind and rain will tear down. My tears will slowly wear it away until nothing is left and my sould is bared for all to see. Then they'll come and stab at me. Poke me and draw anger; slice my skin and draw my crimson blood. It will stain my clothes dark red; brick red; brownish. This happiness is not me. I don't know how to laugh anymore. I only know how to cry today. I cry today and everyday. Every day past and every day to come, I cry. But it doesn't release the feelings that I lock away in a safe because of fear that they might see that I am weak and cannot be strong. They'd see that I have many fronts; I can bend and flex to their every will, to every command. I do not understand the word "no." I have rarely said it. I could always take on more whatever they wanted, I'd be willing to give- Time, money, energy; all is sacrificed for them. I hold them at arm's length so that there is no chance of them finding the key to my locked box of secrets. So now I smile and bare my teeth for the world to see, grin and bear it, and put on the happiness front that they "know" is me.
So, Im new to this. This whole thing. Journals, time, feelings, life...everything. I dont know what to feel most of the time...or how to express it. Im an artist. Arent we all? Dont we all have more than one personality....more than one facade. All through school i was the funny one...i was the entertainer, the jokester...even the counselor. Yet, little did they know, many of the times i was smiling...i was dying inside. Fighting with my coming out, struggling with family issues, school issues...body issues. Has my adoption affected my concept of life...how it should be lived..who it should be lived for? Should i be taking care of myself, making myself happy...or should i care what other think...always strive to make them happy? Like i have been. Should i find others to console me...or should i be consoling myself. Does it matte
scared
angry