I started watching a series and it got me thinking.
I put on such a harsh exterior not because I’m afraid of getting hurt again but because I want to be respected. And in my mind, respect is displayed by fear. I don’t want anyone to ever look at me like I’m a female because I have this fear of never getting anywhere. I read these statistics and all of these feminist posts and all I hear is ‘you are weak’. So I grab the spikes, I grab the gauges, I grab the massive boots all to scare people. Dresses don’t mean power to me, flowers don’t mean power to me. Tight pants, tank tops, military jackets, leather boots, and armor scream power to me. I however don’t go masculine with the actual clothes. Because I am proud to have breasts. I am proud to have strong legs. I am proud of my deceitfully dainty body. Because my body speaks weak, my clothes speak danger, but my heart speaks love, deep down.
I may be terrible at showing it, but I feel it nonetheless. Maybe if I wasn’t conditioned to ‘conceal, don’t feel’, I would be more outwardly supportive. It might also help if I actually knew what helped people. I get criticized for giving people false hope and I get criticized for being honest. Where is the balance? For me, false hope is enough to get me on my knees and once I’m on my knees, I can pool the resources to make something to push off from, then stairs to climb. Doesn’t mean I won’t trip and fall back down, but I will still have that structure in front of me. But what I’m saying is, I need to be able to help. I’m supposed to be the wise one, the sympathetic one, the empathetic one. And you know what? Maybe I’m not supposed to be everyone’s rock. Maybe I’m the wrong person for the job.
What conditioned me to conceal? An entire life of being put down because I looked different and thought different. However, I also learned to stand up for myself, which I rarely do but I have that Simpson trait of limits. I conceal because everyone has something negative to say to me, the main one being ‘you aren’t trying hard enough’. I try so hard and it is never enough. Grades, home, friendships. I’m never good enough. So that’s why I fight. But at the same time, I crave a proper, loving relationship with people. Because I’m tired of being alone. I’ve been alone my entire life, even when I’ve had friends. And I mean this. I’ve never felt like I belong. Not with my family, not with my boyfriend, not with my friends. So I don the dark clothes and I am as sweet as I am humanly capable of to strangers, partly to ruin the stigma of fear, partly to see who is willing to be kind back. I want to find someone, anyone, who is legitimately interested in the same things I am. No criticisms, no jokes.
I did an interview on Sunday. While I was waiting to do it, I was told to talk to the person next to me. Before this point, I was scared simply because I looked different. I was wearing my gigantic, black, leather boots, my black button up, my black wool coat, and a pair of tan skinny jeans. I had my gauges in and my glasses on and no makeup. Everyone else was wearing 7” heels, mini skirts, and baggy shirts, all considered fashionable. And of course my initial thought is fear. Fear because I’m too different. So the conversation begins between me and this shockingly beautiful girl in a red mini skirt and the biggest heels I have ever seen. I could tell off the bat she was just as afraid as me. She is 19 and in college and I felt like I talked too much. I do that when I’m nervous. I either shut down entirely or ramble. And with her I rambled. But I don’t feel I put her off. She said the same thing everyone says upon hearing how old I am. ‘You look older’. And I don’t know why, but this calmed me down. We talked for a total of maybe 5 minutes. And in that time, I decided, maybe there are people out there who are as thoughtful and insane as I am. Maybe there are people out there who crash and burn and hurt and bleed like I do. Maybe I’m not alone. After talking to her, I’m directed to a table to do an interview. 5 questions, but I only remember 2. One word that describes you. Passion. At this moment, I’m freaking out because I said the same answer that I wrote down. And out of fear, I add ‘but determined is a close second, though one could argue passion includes that’. What do you hope participating will do for you? I’m doing this because I want to prove that I can do anything I want… anything I put my mind to. And I didn’t know how to take the interviewer’s response of ‘that’s an interesting way of looking at it’. I thought I botched it. And I didn’t. I made it. But the shocking thing was, there are people out there who think.
I meant it when I said that I want to prove I can do anything I put my mind to. I’ve been in such a dark hole lately. I don’t feel like I can do anything. But I know I have the power to move mountains. The problem is, I’ve been struggling so much with everything. Only half my grades are barely passing, my dad just moved, and I am in desperate need of medication for at least one of my issues, anything to take the edge off. I mean, I tried to kill myself, yet again, a few weeks ago. I feel so alone, in so much pain. I can’t remember basic things, I feel like I’m 90, and sometimes I wonder how my body just doesn’t collapse from underneath me. I mean, I do starve myself when under stress. I lost 20lbs in a month because of that stress. Hell, the only word that goes through my head anymore is stress. My vocal chords and my brain are disconnected. I’ve never had silence in my head until my sleep caused my cognitive functions to deteriorate. Now I only hear silence and it scares me. Where are my thoughts? I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t wake up, I can’t motivate myself to do anything. So I sit on the couch and cry as I watch yet another episode of Top Gear. The other day, it took me 10 hours to motivate myself to get up to go lay down to sleep. I haven’t been working on my game, much less even trying to learn the program. I’ve been wanting to tear myself apart. So on a whim, I went to an interview, fully expecting to screw up horribly enough to not get a callback. But I got a callback. And I’m feeling on top of the world. Yes I still cry when I forget what a word means but I have the opportunity to put myself out there, in a position where I can really get the worldly cogs moving. And today, I had the whim to go watch a channel I had ignored for 6 months. And the videos I watched made me cry with inspiration. I have never shed a happy tear in my life. Now I have. And I have a new view to go with it.