Destructive Behavior

While being opinionated and having my own unique way of thinking, I am extremely impressionable. Unfortunately, I don't choose the people I surround myself with based on whether the qualities they have will be good for me or bad for me. I never think of someone's possible influence on me before I befriend them. I just choose to be around those people I like, despite their problems or vices.

The pattern I've noticed, however, is that when I finally realize how unhealthy one person's influence has been on me and I move on, instead of finding someone more suitable to replace them, I just find someone with a different death wish. If it's not one irresponsible pleasure, it's another.

I found a guy and fell in love. He ended up a druggie and I finally wised up and realized I shouldn't waste my time with someone who could eventually turn me onto such dirty habits. I then started seeing someone with self-infliction issues. Since I can relate, it's needless to say just how counterproductive that relationship was for my psyche. After essentially combing that bad habit out of the seemling endless line of influential people I've met, I finally reach the point I'm at now. The person I am around the most doesn't do drugs and doesn't blatantly hurt himself, but I've noticed recently his lifestyle is no more safe or sane than the other two.

If I had to give it a name, I'd say it could be called Chronic Partying.

While I trust him fully, it's difficult to be with someone who always wants to go out and drink when all I want to do is stay inside. Given, I'd never keep him from doing what he wanted, so of course I encourage him to go and have fun. That isn't what gets to me. I've realized what bothers me is when I get drunk texts or calls and I have to realize that that altered mind, my boyfriend's altered mind, is off somewhere else without me.

That isn't even the main thing that bothers me, still. I can't completely explain what bothers me. It could be repressed memories or flashbacks or what have you. Whatever the case, being around anyone with any sort of destructive behavior brings out the depression and destructive behavior inside of me. If I see people I care about doing things to hurt themselves it makes me want to do the same to myself. When they hurt themselves they hurt me, whether they mean to or not, consequently making me want to hurt myself.

The first "issue" I associated with is long gone, but the other two I still enjoy and want to be around. In fact that's an understatement. It's likely I'd be devestated without them...

The irony of the saying "Can't live with them, can't live without them" is absolutely killing me right now.

I don't know what to do.

Look Into My Mind

What if living took effort? I'm not talking about making a living or surviving. I'm talking about simply being alive. What if it was a task? Some people might be dramatic and say that yes, in fact it is, but that's an exaggeration; it's speaking figuratively.

I'm literally asking (rhetorically of course): What if breathing wasn't an involuntary act of the body? What if you had to think about every beat of your heart to stay alive?

How many people would die of laziness?

So many people are so lazy with so many things. It would almost be appropriate for the heart to have to be worked manually. That way those who didn't care enough to try would quickly be eliminated. It would save space, save resources, conserve energy, conserve air...

Is that being insensitive or practical? All those lazy people...what are they really doing? Wasting a life. If it really came down to it and their lives depended on them showing effort would they step up? If not it would be only fair for them to die out.

All in all, if every breath you took took conscious effort, would you live or would you die? Those folks who take life for granted would be eliminated simply through evolution and the people who really value life would remain.

It might not be such a bad thing...

Just a random thought I had today.

I'm Scared

I've found something in my life that makes me happy again. The fact that the happiness I've found is in another person is even more mind-blowing. Usually the sanctuaries I find are hobbies not involving others (i.e. music, writing, this blog...).

It takes someone amazing to even make it onto the list of things that put me in a good mood or help me escape from my problems, let alone top that list. Somehow, for whatever reason, I've managed to find someone who tops that list. He makes me feel the way I was afraid I would never get to feel again. His affection turns me into a complete cliche. I fall asleep thinking of him and text him first thing when I wake up and all I want to do is see him. All that gushy stuff that new couples write about each other. However, for someone who's been hurt and turned into a complete and utter skeptic, this isn't normal behavior anymore (as I mentioned in a post a couple days back).

Now, here's why I'm afraid:

What if it doesn't work out?

I'm in too deep now to get out. I've let my guards down too soon. I've trusted again when everything in me was telling me not to. Now that it's too late, I'm starting to worry. What if it was a mistake? Not on my part, of course. I know exactly what I want. This, what I have, is more than I could have asked for; it is everything I want...but what about him? What if he decides to change his mind, or what if he gets fed up with me and my closet full of skeletons and endless emotional baggage?

We've already had a few arguments. They've been the same both times, but they scare the hell out of me because after only two months I already know I'm in no shape to lose him.

This is what I really hate about myself. When I find someone I care this much about I deposit all of my happiness into them. All of my positive thoughts and feelings are anchored to that person. If they leave, so does my elated outlook on life.

"Oh, you've decided you don't want to be with me? Well, have fun with my optimism, you joy-stealer." But that's just the thing...I can't even blame the other party. It is completely my fault for getting so emotionally invested in another person.

If there is anything I've learned that's of any value in these past months, it's not to trust anyone, and here I've gone and broken my own rule. I've made myself vulnerable again.

Bottom line?

I'm fucked.

Let's Try a Poem

It isn't much of a poem, more of a stream of consciousness written more rhythmically than the majority of my posts. I haven't tried my hand at poems since junior high, so I thought I'd let my mind takeover and see where it would go.

This is where it went:

Sleeping, silent pleading,
Falling down.
Nothing now.
Ballet shoes, perfect point.
Loss of balance on the stage.
One false move...
Nothing now.
More mistakes,
Twirling 'round in a
d
o
w
n
w
a
r
d
spiral.
Nothing new.
No one there for support.
Face in my own hands.
Then the touch of someone else's...
Digits of trust and security
Wrap around my weakness,
Lifting me like puppet strings;
They bring me back on point.
Loyalty:
The backbone to my recovery.


I'm not a huge fan of my poetry, which is why I mainly stick to stream of consciousness written in prose instead.
Today was just a little different. It isn't very good and it most certainly isn't my best or anywhere near it, but it's always interesting to see just what comes out when my waking mind shuts down and I leave the controls to my subconscious.

Change Is Good...Right?

When you've been with something for so long you can't help but become accustom to it. The way it feels, the way it smells, the way it tastes, the way it sounds, the way it makes you feel. When it leaves, all of those things you've become accustom to are just constant, upsetting reminders of what you had and the fact that you no longer have it. Whether the loss is good or bad the longing for the past is the same.

For me, what I lost, I lost for the best and what I gained was even better.

There was only one problem with the exchange...
When what I had went out the window, so did my innocence.
No more am I willing to give myself so whole-heartedly to someone else.
I would never be so naive again.

The change is evident.

I'm just as happy as I ever was before.
I have more self-respect, better self-esteem...
But I'm so much more cautious.
It keeps me from opening up the same way I did before which keeps me from loving the way I had in the past...Which ultimately adds up to the conclusion that I can't be as carefree...as head-over-heels, "I don't care what happens as long as I'm with you" in love.

What if what I have will never be what I had?

Should that even be an issue? All things considered, what I had was all a giant fabrication I'd made up in my own mind. Nothing was as it seemed and in the end "what I had" was what I wished I had, not the reality.

That makes what I have already ten times better than what I had, right?

I wish I could back-track. I wish I could just say, "Fuck it, you can have it. You can have all of it." I wish I could give myself away again.

It felt better that way.

As the saying goes, "It is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all." I can agree. I got hurt, but what I felt was the best thing I'd EVER felt. It was enough to build me up and it was enough to break me down. It was enough to get me through my hardest times and it was enough to put me through even harder times.

By the same token, I can disagree. I wish I would have never loved at all. Then I'd have a chance to do it again...to do it right. I'd have a chance to give my boyfriend all of me. I could offer him my happiness and my sadness...but I can't. My happiness was taken away from me and the naive, positive girl I used to be was kidnapped the same day.

He can't have what I was and for that I am sorry.

...but he can have all that I am and hopefully that will be enough.

Death Scares Me

Now, I've been known to have some disturbing thoughts lying down to bed at night. The times when my body is exhausted and my mind is racing and I have no other option but to lie there and listen to it; hear it whir to life and be forced to face it...to face all the thoughts that scare and intrigue me. So, to ensure my sanity, I make a mental note to write it all down later in hopes of clearing my psyche come morning.

The thoughts start out simple. One word or phrase. Then, they expand as my mind takes over and my body is frozen, held hostage to my internal speculation. Once it starts there is no stopping it until it's run its course and finally, yet reluctantly, fizzled out.

Last night the phrase to kick start my involuntary contemplation was as follows:

Death scares me.

Not my death mind you, but the deaths of loved ones. My mother. My father. My sisters. The waking pain of it resonating everyday until I couldn't feel anymore.
That's what scares me.

Their death.
My pain.
I couldn't stand it.

There's so many pending questions regarding the death of a loved one, before and after the fact.

If one of my parents died:
When would I find out?
Who would tell me?
Where would I be when I heard the news?
Would I find them myself?
What would I do if I did?

How would I react on the spot?
Would I break down or be left in shock?

If I was left in shock:
When would the realizations flood me?

The comprehension that they would never see grandchildren.
That they wouldn't be at my wedding.
That I'd never see them again.
Never hug, kiss, or tell them I loved them.

What must that feel like...?
Could I live through it?
I don't know if I could.

As depressing and raw as they may be, those are the sometimes the kinds of thoughts I fall asleep to at night.

Welcome to my world.

All You Have To Do Is Ask

Anyone who knows me knows I couldn't hold a grudge against anyone.

Leave me.
Hurt me.
Disbelieve me.
Desert me.

Feed me lies.
Make me cry.

Criticize me.
Ostracize me.
Antagonize me.
Patronize me.
Apologize to me...and I'll forgive you.

It doesn't matter what they do. If a person asks for my forgiveness or wants to be on good terms with me, I will not deny them. I like to think of myself as peaceful and I like to give people the benefit of the doubt in hopes that they have changed or were actually decent to start.

Mostly, I'm wrong. I invest too much and I get hurt frequently.

I don't mind.

I will help anyone in need, if you've helped me or if you've wronged me. Everyone needs someone and if I need to be that someone, so be it. I've been in situations where I needed people who wouldn't be there for me and I wouldn't wish that feeling of solitude and abandonment on anyone.

If you need me, ask.
If you turn around the next day and tell me to jump off a cliff, that's fine.
If I helped you get through one more day, it was worth it.

Some things are bigger than disagreements and fights. I wish everyone could just get over it sometimes and be there for each other.

I'm willing to help anyone...so why isn't anyone willing to help me?