We do for others because we don't know how to do for ourselves. We do for others because we feel it is the only way to make up for the damage we feel our craziness is doing to society. We do for others because it makes us feel good when nothing else in the whole world does, not even pills. We stay quiet and sit in the corner because others seem so much more needy. We require so little, you and I. A fact which does not sit well with others who would label us as too much to handle. When in truth, all those such as us really need is a bit of understanding, a bit of reciprocation, maybe a touch on the cheek once in a while and a sly wink. The rest of the world is needy. I'd rather be crazy. ~~Aimee

Wednesday, 23 March 2011

Conversations with My Inner Self

Lately I have been all about finding "me". I don't know what "me" is. I am searching around. Trying out new things. Some fit. Some don't. Taking what does, trying a different size on what doesn't. It's very strange to be physically one age, but another both emotionally and mentally.

I have also been trying to stop myself from manipulating and mimicing. It's an extremely bad habit of mine. Maybe by putting it out there I will be able to catch myself before I get too lost. It's so easy to just be things I am not. People like the person I am not. I can be the person they want me to be regardless of who or what that person is. It's so much easier than just being "me".

How do you be something you have never been before? It's being poor your whole life and suddenly somebody goes "you're a millionaire". While that sounds great, but if you have been poor your whole life, you know nothing about managing money. You will go out and buy shiny things, and then a few weeks after becoming a millionaire, you will be poor again. Why? Because you didn't know how to be a millionaire. That's why.

This is the circle I find myself repeating. Being "me". Then being what others want me to be. Then trying to be "me". Whatever the hell "me" is. Most people say just be normal. Whatever the hell normal is.

Normal for me growing up was alcohol, drugs, and avoiding being shot at by my father and/or my mother's boyfriends. No thanks. No normal for me.

Sometimes I feel so lost that I check the backs of milk cartons just to see if my face is there. I am usually surprised when it isn't. I don't know when this journey started. Somehow I missed the beginning and now I am stuck in the middle. Either go forward or backwards. Both choices suck eggs, but at the moment I am trying to go forwards. It is unchartered terroritory, but I am a trekkie so I boldly go where no man has gone before.

Little girl
I wish you well
Until we meet again
My little thirteen year old me
"Conversations with my 13 year old self- Pink"

Apparently I wrote this 10 days ago, but for whatever reason I never published it. I was just looking at my edit posts page and noticed this draft. I don't remember writing this, but it's spot on so I thought I would just publish it. I would assume I wanted to add something and that is why I didn't publish it, but  something shiny must have come along and I forgot.


Aimee said...

You are the something shiny that came along.

Anonymous said...

Going forwards, while scary, is always better than going backwards.

At least that's what I have found to be true.

Lance said...

Here's the cool thing about mental illness, if you tackle it head on, honestly, and with good intent, then you can define what being "better" is.

I don't get caught up in the word normal. I like the word, better. Am I better today than I was yesterday.

From what I read, you are becoming a better person all the time. I am proud to read it all.

Maasiyat said...

Thanks Lance, I think I will have to steal that and pretend I thought of it all by myself.

Better kicks normal's ass any day.

Simon said...

Normal for people is like the definition of average for a mathematician, it sounds easy to define but the more you look the more complicated the definition becomes and the harder it is to pin down.


Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...