Besame Mucho

What I've found is that being an adult- being responsible, etc.- actually has its perks. Having a clean, neat room makes me feel less stressed, just plain feels cleaner. Being early feels responsible, less nerve wracking, and rather pleasant. And not procrastinating is just plain rational.

I think (and I hope) that I'm slowly transforming into a type A personality.

Anyway, tonight was alright. Today, actually, was okay. I felt grumpy, and resentful, and awkward...but then I realized surprisingly that I might just be beginning to accept myself. So what if I'm shy and awkward around new people? Americans may praise extrovertedness but that doesn't necessarily mean being introverted means you'd be exiled.

I like who I am. I try to appreciate who I am- all my dark secrets, solitary hours, and unfortunate quirks, and raging tempers and impatient bits- and I think that's essential to learning how to be happy.

During evenings like these, when I'm alone, it is very useful and pleasant to peacefully and contentedly spend time with yourself- smoothing on fragrant sweet pea lotion, watching TV lazily, just enjoying my own company.

Definitely a good skill. A rare peaceful night.

Cause of depression?

Of course, I didn't get that job. But also, this time last year I had taken a deep breath, wrenched myself out of a terrible relationship, and turned to face the biggest shitpile I'd ever created for myself.

I was going to write this on my public blog, but it really is too undignified. When I started making the laundry list of casualties, it was too obvious and sad. I lost the trust, of pretty much everyone I loved. I LOST people I loved. I remember incredibly painful moments, small moments that sting in my memory like a deep papercut...when Steph and Chris looked at me apprehensively the first time I was home after the move, and he asked, "so you ok? you yourself now?"

I remember that awful Vegas night, drunk as fuck and crying to Eric, feeling him tug down my dress to cover my exposed thighs, seeing him looking so angry and intense through my tear filled eyes.

I lost...a lot. Looking back, I wonder how I survived. And it was literally by crawling into a hole and nursing my wounds in a quiet place before tentatively emerging in society again. Thank god it was a peacful, quiet place like Benvenue, where I could close the door and cry every now and then. Thank god for Jess and Honnie, who were close but not close enough to have been hurt by me, who took me out and helped me back to myself.

But geezus. Look at what I lost, dear God! I lost my friends, my family, and myself. It was a slow and miraculous process to find myself again- and I still am- finding small pieces of myself in surprising, random places.

My family- Mom and Steph- is trusting me again because of all the hard work I put in. Steph said "love you" on the phone today, quite naturally, and I felt a tinge of relief and warmth. And the other day, I heard Mom say on the phone "if we agree on a time, she'll be up" and I felt all those exhausting early hours of waking up for her had paid off.

But what have I lost that I have not recovered?

His name would be Eric.

God I was an ass. I was perusing my blog, reminiscing painfully on the end of Adam, and then I was enjoying my "recovery" posts, and then I saw that post of the AIM convo with Eric. I was hoping to peg something on him (lol, right?) because I vaguely remembered him listing things about me that he hated.

Then I read it again, and now all I feel is renewed surges of guilt. He said he hated how I believed things that weren't (my paranoia, which everybody hates) and (here's the kicker) that he hated seeing me not follow his advice, and mess up.

And he mentions how I wouldn't go on the trip and prove myself a good friend.

So pretty much I've trashed it completely. That's the inelegant truth.

But I know- and I am grounded enough to stem the drama here- that he is a good enough guy that he'll still try. We might have the occasional lunch when he comes back, but I won't hope for more. I don't deserve more. I killed one of the best friendships- THE best friendship, probably- and maybe even one of the best possible relationships of my life.

But again, my realistic self murmurs of a moment where I realize how ordinary and maybe inextraordinary he is.

I think the truth is...that Eric has become a symbol for what I lost.

And I'm only realizing this now.

Eric symbolizes the content, idealistic, innocent friendship and identity that was completely and utterly destroyed by my relationship with Adam. After...everything...that happened, all of that is gone. I still have my idealism, I still have hope, but I will never be that wide eyed, stupidly spontaneous girl again.

I will never believe in complete and utter trust. I will always suspect a darker nature in everyone I meet. And...I can physically FEEL it...I can never love, or trust as I did...ever again. There is a sliver of darkness, a scar of hurt that lines my heart. And I fear of how long it will take- and if it will ever- really heal.

It's only been a year.

I shouldn't expect to be completely recovered. I should be grateful to be such a confident, relatively content version of my older self.

But we're never satisfied lol.

Good things come to good people

Is that really true? I come here to muse, usually depressingly, but now i'm curious in addition in a dark sort of way. We all know of people- famous or near us- who are just pure evil and don't seem to get what they to deserve. But dare it be possible that "nature craves all dues rendered to their owners?" did i even get that quote right? lol.

i think women realize far earlier than men that life is more pleasant when you connect with people. and for a lot of people (women in particular), connecting means acoomodating. it means getting them a hot plate of food (mom) or bringing sancks to class (phoebe) or opening your house for a yard sale (frances) or just doing general favorable things. men realize this later, which is approximately/hopefully when they begin to take care of their families. and i suppose the bitterness everyone holds- particualrly the viscious bitchiness women can have- shows how hard all of that can be.

i know that sacrificing yourself is wrong. sometimes i still wonder if i err in that area. but i don't teach because i'm doing it "for the children". i mean, that's part of the reason, but not in an idiotic way. i do it because i'm good at it, and because i enjoy it, and it's conducive to family life which is my ultimate goal. and those are damn good reasons that i can back up more than ever now.

anyway, i guess i was just wondering if people really do get what they deserve. i mean dad's sick an dmiserable....i even worry he'll just go ape shit crazy one day lol. but even if he does something horrible to us, he'd have it on his conscious forever and the entire town would remember him as an awful man. and he would hate that lol.

i wonder.....all the good things i've done thus far, for everyone from pedro to steph and mom? am i repaying my massive debts of being a teenage nightmare and a little bitch of a tease and a horrible friend? how's my karmatic credit, man in the sky? i'm hoping that i've paid it all off and i'm earning some to store. Maybe my reward is in that pure feeling of a clean conscious when I drive to school and see birds fly overhead, listening to a vaguely comforting/inspirational song.

who knows, eh?

Airplanes are shooting stars

Sometimes it helps when I know I'm writing TO someone.

This is one of those moments when I let down my guard, when a stupid show like Lost has a heartwrenching scene (when Jin and Sun drown together, holding hands) and I feel completely vulnerable. When I miss a friendship that I broke, when I question my decisions, and I lament the same old shit- how bored and trapped I am here, how I'm terrified at the future and I question if I've made the right decision everyday.

Why does prelaw haunt me so? Whenever my heart breaks because of something- whether its steph's bitchiness, or particular distance from mom, or anything- i think about law again. it's such a tempting path, to bury my heart in the ground and become a totally different person.

But deep down I know that it isn't the right decision. Two years ago I made a decision and decided that teaching could be a passion of mine. I already knew that going to Berkeley would poison my heart with ambition, and it did. It poisoned my heart in many ways.

I think about how far I've come. I no longer weep in the car, dressed in a hoodie with a broken heart. I control my classroom tiredly but with a firm hand. I know what I'm doing with my future.

I want to be better.

This ain't goodbye...or is it?

I watched Rent again for the first time in years. I was slightly afraid, like with many other things, that it would have been ruined or changed for me because my idealism is so battered and bent. But I still teared up at all the same parts. I still wanted to dance and sing to the same parts. And towards the end, I was still filled with an unfailing hope that was incredibly reassuring and needed.

I will admit that I have ghosts. There are moments when I relive the darkest parts of my life- the times when henry and eric made fun of me, that awful night with adam, or dad......dark, dark memories that paralyze me and allow the light to be sucked out.

But I'm fighting it.

Today was my last lesson with Ivan. There was this precious moment where, as he was blasting cheesy techno from his cheesy godfather's gift, we sat on the couch cuddled next to each other for warmth, playing tic tac toe and hangman. and i couldn't help but grin.

I realized as I left that it was yet another valuable learning experience. I changed a little boy from a monster to a sweet little fellow that loves to read and says "thanks" and "excuse me". That is much more amazing than making millions of dollars.

When I first started teaching Ivan, I would let tears trickle down my face and allow myself to indulge in wallowing pain as I drove to his house, hurridly wiping my face when I pulled up to the place. But now, today, as I drove away I played Keith Urban: If ever I could love and I realized how far I've come.

It's been a boring, occasionally dramatic, relatively monotone few months. And although there are many times when I've writhed and raged against how bored I've been, I think in a way I needed it. I needed some serious quiet time like right now, sitting in my room and just thinking quietly....just being at peace. Safe from the world, safe from my past and my future....collecting myself. Healing. Coming to terms, digesting, accepting things.

That's what I've done, isn't it? I've accepted it. I still get angry and sad sometimes, but I'm trying really hard to forgive everyone- and mostly, to forgive myself. I'm not a saint, I'm not a Christian- I still wish a horrible death on a handful of people.

But my raging hate has simmered down to a echo of anger at the back of my heart. With the comfort of home, albeit how irritating and irksome and awfully dull it can be, the noxious poison has been drained from my soul. I've come to terms.

I've come to terms. Yeah...those are the words.

Ghosts exist. I will admit that. But I'm refusing to let them haunt me anymore.

I'm alright :)

Anger

There was a grey's episode about how anger is one of the worst sins, because it doesn't only hurt yourself. Well, I disagree. Anger seems to hurt you the worst out of all people, especially if it won't go away.



Sometimes when I am triggered, I realize that there are A LOT of things to be angry about. Steph's hypocrisy and the whole niko episode...Mom and how she ruined our last years of innocence by being a maternal tyrant....Dad and how he is practically shaking to pounce on me at the slightest misstep because he hates how i humiliated him.....god, my entire family because of how unsupportive and misunderstanding they are about my career choice.



My old friends. Like how Jess seems to use me as an emotional crutch. Or worst of all, how Eric abandoned me during the worst time of my life and didn't rescue me when I desperately needed rescuing.



Sigh. There are a lot of things to be angry about.



But I have realized that all this anger only hurts me. And why should I indulge in something that is so masochistic? If it somehow hurt them, or got vengeance, that might be fair, but as far as I know they're all happily living their lives without a clue as to how I feel. I feel like that kindl yold man patient in Grey's (lol I miss Grey's) who seemed so nice but on his death bed, made all these bitchy tapes.



The point is, it's pointless. I could start yelling at each person I'm angry at, but realy what would it achieve except me getting lonelier and lonelier?



What's past is past. The worst insult you can give someone is not to hate them, but to dignify them as dead to you. Dad goes in that category, as the worst case. But as for Mom, Steph, Jess, and Eric....there was enough love and loyalty laced through all the anger that they're not dead to me. I still need them, I still need PEOPLE. I refuse to end up like my father- alone, delusional, and slightly insane.



I choose people. I choose the light, morality, and I guess I grudgingly choose a form of forgiveness where I don't really forgive people but I try to move past what doesn't matter anymore.

No drama

I feel like a lot of lines from various chick flicks and tv shows apply to my life. Like from "he's just not that into you", how the justin long character (and i still don't understand how he became famous from apple commercials) says "you chicks are addicted to drama!"

and i believe that is true.

a bit of good drama- excitement, that is- is healthy every now and then. admittedly my tendencies are towards the melancholy pining kind, and i'm glad i'm over that.

i know i'm not soulless, like sayid. i just feel very...blah. it's boring at home. but one bit that i admitted to jess was that, as angry as i am with my family, i know consciously and grudgingly that a lot of my anger is from my previous issues.

whatever. i'm so jittry right now, there's no way i'm going to sleep. bah. i really want to go to shanghai, to experience the streets/clubbing/night life craziness with good friends, and a teensy bit to see an old friend (admittedly) but i know that claremont is far more important. if i get in, i'll definitely go. and if i can't squeeze in the shanghai trip, then so be it.

yep...