Conversations with my 13 Year Old Self

   (Yes, I would like to credit my blog title to the P!nk song from her I'm Not Dead album)

 

I was cleaning out my closet the other day and I came across all of my old journals. I have kept a journal since I was about seven years old, as I have always found it therapeutic to write. I came across a journal that I kept from age twelve to age twenty-three.

      I read through it for a few hours and was heart-broken by the girl that I once was. There is so much anguish in my writing. I was a distraught teenager, just desperately trying to belong. I know that the thirteen year old me wants to blame my parents. The thirteen year old me wants to blame all the what nots, maybe’s, broken promises, and empty hopes. Being a teenager is one of the hardest things we experience in our lives. The sudden surge of hormones has you laughing one minute, crying the next, and before you know it you are so angry—you could scream. Maybe not every teenager felt this way, but I know I certainly did. I decided to share one of my journal entries from December 1^st, 1999.

                I know this was supposed to be a “grateful” journal, but now I think I want it to be a diary. I really haven’t had the time to sit down and write what’s really going on. So, now I have the chance…and I feel like it needs to be written.

This summer I tried to commit suicide…twice. I thought it would never happen to me, but it did. I don’t really know why I wanted to, but it was just mainly because I felt like I wasn’t loved, nobody listened to me and I felt lonely and desperate. I still have thoughts about it, about doing it. But, I don’t think God wants me right now. I mean all I have to do is….I DON’T KNOW!!!!! Another reason was because I was told, I couldn’t be an actress.

     If there was a way where I could put myself up for adoption, I would. You know all my parents do is yell, yell, YELL, YELL, YELL!!! I HATE IT!!! I wish I could live with Grandma. These past few weeks Aunt Chrissy asked me what I changed so much and what I was such a…..I can’t remember what she said.

Anyway, I wish I could move out for a few weeks away from my parents to find a way to be a better person and a way to respect them. Or, a way to find out something.

     Today, a teacher gave me a really sweet card about how she “wonders what the future holds for me,” and “how sweet I am in class.” If only my parents understood how I felt. If they could understand that I need to I get away. But, I CANNOT runaway. It’s not right. I do not know what to do.

 As you can see, I never succeeding in killing myself—even though I attempted it a few more times and eventually became a cutter—a terrible cutter, or just lucky that I have very few visible scars. Sometimes, I am constantly reminded of the thirteen year old me and how far that I have come along. I am happy. I have a good relationship with my parents now. I have a good family. I have amazingly, wonderful friends. I have a job—even though I hate it. I have enough money to pay bills and splurge a little—it is tough…but it is life. I have my health. I have a home.

    I sit here writing, I know that I am meant for something more than just the corporate job and a cubicle space…I believe I am meant to help others. I believe I am meant to share my story. I believe I am meant to write. I am a driven, passionate, hard working person—I will do everything in my power to accomplish my goals. My life is what it is and was what it was. I am not defined or know by my past---I just had to go through it to be who I am today….a beautiful, strong, confident woman who loves endlessly and stops at nothing. I am moving forward and not holding back. I am who I am. I have a right to be here. I have nothing to prove.

 



YESTERDAY

 “There’s no such thing as a grown-up. We’re still a bunch of kids running around on the playground trying desperately to fit in.”-Grey’s Anatomy

Yesterday, I attended a wedding as a bridesmaid to a friend I have known since the fourth grade. It was surreal to me.  I felt as if we were just playing dress up; as if we were just sitting on the bus talking about and dreaming about our future. Yesterday, I attended a wedding as a bridesmaid for my third time. In those fourth grade dreams, I dreamt I would be married by now and maybe have a kid or two, but life never has worked out the way I planned. I’m so happy for my friend and her new life. I wish nothing but the best for her and her husband. Although, it seems as if I am bitter about being a bridesmaid…you’re wrong. I love weddings. I enjoy being in weddings and if I have to sing “always a bridesmaid never a bride” a little while longer then so be it.

          I feel like the little boy David in David after Dentist on YouTube…”is this real life?” I work. I pay bills. I drive a car. I shop and I get to push the cart all by myself. How is this real life?

I like to color. I like to play with play-dough. Bubbles are still fun to blow. Swinging on swings calms me down. I love Disney movies. Glow sticks are entertaining. I giggle at inappropriate things. I burp and sometimes I do not say excuse me. I always have to visit the Disney store. I may act childish, but it is how I survive. It is how I make my life more interesting; it is how I make life worth living. I say all the time that I suffer from Peter Pan syndrome. I don’t ever want to truly grow up. I always want to have a childlike essence. I will never outgrow that.

We all have different playgrounds in life. There is the playground at work, the playground at home, the playground in our circle of friends, the playground at church, and the playground of life. We all want to be accepted, loved for who we are. Whether we are the kid without the name brand clothes, the kid with the frizzy red hair, the kid with the big glasses, the kid with the annoying voice, the kid who trips, the kid who pinches, the kid who bites…we just want to be accepted. As a kid, I was always running to the swings at recess. The freedom of feeling that you’re flying, and for just a moment you don’t have to run around and try to fit in. You are flying above everyone and the class politics do not matter. As I got older, it was running to the moon climber, sitting on top, and telling the other kids trying to fit in that they couldn’t join my friends and me on top of the moon climber. Maybe that wasn’t the nicest move, but there are always going to be places where we all just won’t fit no matter how hard we try or hope that we can. “We hope against all logic, against all experience. Like children we never give up hope.”

HERE'S TO FUTURE DAYS

“We spend our whole lives worrying about the future, planning for the future, trying to predict the future…as if figuring it out will somehow cushion the blow.  But the future is always changing. The future is the home of our deepest fears and our wildest hopes. But one thing is certain: when it finally reveals itself the future is never the way we imagined it.”                 

                                                                                                                                       -Grey’s Anatomy

I got a raise last week at work. This is significant to me because it will make my life less complicated. I will be able to pay down my credit cards and take the extra money to save for the future.I do not know where I’m going or what will happen when I get there, not knowing is slightly scary but I think it will be okay.

           As I have said in my past blogs, I have only ever dreamed or imagined my future. Well, things never turn out the way you plan. As a teenager, I thought I’d be married by now with kids. As a college student, I thought I’d be working at a wonderful theatre or working as a production assistant for a Hollywood film. Well… I am neither here nor there. Currently, I am sitting on my bedroom floor of my grandparent’s home listening to the “Sleep Station” I’ve created on Pandora. Instrumental music seems to pull me into my creative writing world where I can just be me and write my heart to whoever wants to read.
I have a passion for writing. I feel I have a gift to write and maybe my blogging will turn into something greater than I expected. It may just turn into something I never could have even imagined.
I’m putting the tools in place to get me to wherever it is I am supposed to go. I am researching production companies, theatre companies, and places to live. I’m spicing up my resume, updating my cover letters; printing out headshots…I’m always searching, always looking anywhere and everywhere to something that appeals to me.
           As an actor, I want to speak the truth. I do not want it just to be memorized lines. I want it to be raw and real. As I jump from that cliff and leap and bound, I want the audience right there with me…rooting for me.
As I writer, I want the reader to hear my voice and root for my characters; or, in the case of a blog root for me.
As a person, who loves to help people, I want people to know I’d make the best assistant, the hardest and most dedicated worker.

I’m a dreamer. I’m a creator. I’m a giver. I’m a lover. I’m the only me and the best me. As proof of the things I have just stated, I’ve kept true to my writing a blog (even though I skipped last week). I have learned “Someone Like You” by Adele on the piano. My goals for 2012 were to learn to play the piano and write a blog for the entire year.

I’ve made friends. I’ve lost friends. I’ve become friends with acquaintances. I’m performing better and better at my job. I’m laughing more. I’m crying more. I’m loving life and thankful for every moment I have.
So far, 2012 has taught me that I’m strong, that I meant for something more. Soon, when my future comes…I just might find out what that something more is. The future, “the home of our deepest fears and our wildest hopes,” I sure hope you’re ready for me.