This is going to sound like an adolescent post about my self esteem and how emo I am about the things that happen to me - and that, by the end of this entry I'm going to go dye my hair black again and cut my arms. I don't mean it in that way. This entry is not some self-loathing piece of shit that I feel like vomiting on all over the internet - not this time. I'm 25 years old and I'm about to be 26 and I'm starting to realize that there are just things about me that people who have to be around me all the time start to hate. It's like, all the reasons why people fall in love with me end up being the reasons why they start to dislike everything I do.
"I DON'T WANNA KNOW, LEAVE ME IN THE DARK - IF I CAN'T HOLD IT THAN I CAN'T TEAR IT APART. AND IT SEEMS IF, EVERYTHING I TOUCH COMES TO PIECES"
Been the story of my life for as long as I can remember. If people get close enough to me, I end up doing something - something totally unexplainable to push them away - to make them start to focus on my flaws, the many many that I have. I fall apart inside. I stop communicating properly, I stop showing affection properly, I stop knowing how to act or feel or be because all I want to do is make people happy and then I end up trying so hard that I put everything into reverse. People get frustrated with my considerate indecision. People start to hate that I consult them for decisions - that I sometimes get so hungry that I need them to pick somewhere to eat for me. They stop wanting me to mess around with them and use my horrible sense of humor. I start to distance myself because I revert back to being the independent mostly-only-child that I have always been. They stop loving my feistyness - my I-don't-give-a-fuck-ness, my cynicism and slightly overdone pessimism. AND I GET IT. I UNDERSTAND IT. IT ALWAYS MAKES SENSE BECAUSE I KNOW I'M DOING IT BUT I CAN'T STOP. Destruction runs somewhere deep and dark inside me - growing up in turmoil, I feel like it's all that I know. My Mom tried to keep things balanced but I will never blame her for what has happened to me because she has been the only solid existence in my world - through the good and bad.
Unfortunately, she is the only person that understands all weird things about me and loves me unconditionally anyway.
I'm reserved, I keep things to myself - even things that I shouldn't keep and then I hide them from everyone until I explode. I overestimate my strength on a daily basis and when I am around someone else all the time, it's a constant reminder of the failures that I can be to this human life of mine. I never let people bring me down, I know that I am good and loving and all that good shit that I have known exists in there that shines through my eyes and my heart. I don't let people's opinions of me upset me and bring me to a place of utter despair - yet, how can I ignore so many of the same complaints over the last 10 years.
My boss said something to a friend on the phone yesterday about his Ferrari - "it's the best thing for a week and then it's only a drag". It made me think of how the men in my life have always seemed to think of me. I know it's not true - I know they adore me or they wouldn't stick around and deal with my bullshit but why do I always feel like I'm the defensive linebacker on an NFL team when I'm at home, alone with them and my miserable brain. I AM TOO OLD FOR THIS DRAMA - but it fuels from somewhere that I cannot control - that I get deluded with because I never know if it's me or them. Or everything. I AM JUST A PERSON. An imperfect person who will never be anything near perfect but I know that I could be - for someone who let's me be the mess that I am and just hugs me when I melt to the floor. Perhaps my notion of myself is far from reality - perhaps, I have deleted reality from my world - it is fully possible that I have flipped that switch - I would not be surprised but I also know that I have more reason and reliability and rationality than most people have in their little finger - but it all comes out wrong. Every time.
I'm sitting here alone because he had to leave again - the person who I know loves me but can't stand the ways I do things sometimes. I DON'T BLAME HIM. I do make the mistakes he says I do - he is not the enemy although sometimes I know I make him out to be. He is so much smarter than me and he deals with no bullshit. I am full of bullshit. I need my dog - I need my sanity. I need to WAKE UP, STAND UP, and try to fix the cracks in this being that they all call Madie but that I only think of as this existence - this life.
I will sit here and drink beer and try to laugh at 30 Rock (even though it not as funny as it used to be Tina Fey, I'm sad). I will stop feeling sorry for myself and my shit tornado that follows me everywhere. You know that little sad depressed umbrella that follows that cartoon woman around in the Cymbalta commercial? Or whatever anti-depressant shit that is? That umbrella is me. I've lost track of where the sun is and how to look at it the way I need to. I have my black out curtains set so low and so extremely to block out the bad - that I have also now blocked out all good.
HOW DID I REVERT BACK THIS FAR? I had my whole life set out. Now I'm scrabbling to find myself in the maze I've created. Dark, twisted and far far far away from home (Oregon). Los Angeles has not been my home for too long.
I will regret this in the morning. By then it will be too late but the delete button will still exist. And boy, I might use it.
TACO, I NEED YOU. I CAN'T BELIEVE I LEFT YOU. YOU SAVED MY LIFE AND I AM FLOUNDERING WITHOUT YOU
LOVE, YOUR FUCKED UP MOM
P.S. Just because I sound sad or whatever, doesn't mean I actually am. I have many compartments to myself. This is only 1 of them. I am the most magical, strong motherfucker there is.
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