12 February 2012
So here's what I know now.
Things that I should've known.
Things that I forget.
But no longer.
Yesterday was one of the most uplifting days of my life.
It just took that one lunch to help me through these next few treacherous months.
For me to realize that answers don't come with 18.
Comfort doesn't come with 18.
Changes don't radically occur with 18.
Confidence doesn't build up with 18.
Courage doesn't just happen.
I've been living in this little constricted bubble where I keep telling myself that the whole world's against me.
And perhaps a big part of it is.
But I forget so easily that there's that other part.
Of people who appreciate me no matter what I am.
Preconceived notions aside, these are the very people who, as much as I don't open myself up to much, are the very people who care.
In their own, subtle, strange ways.
Raging against the machine.
That's what I've been doing.
It explains the hell-hole that I've kept myself in all these years.
My self-consumed delusion that everyone's pointing at me and laughing at my expense.
I've been so self-conscious, so insecure.
And while it's understandable.
It's no longer right.
It's never been helpful, never been healthy.
And I'm a fool to let all of that define who I am.
Because no one else can define.
1. Who I am.
2. Who I can be.
3. What I can offer.
I have to get it out of my mind.
The self-inflicted nightmare that I'm the victim.
Because I've been told that I have drive.
And that I have so much of it.
And that this should only serve to drive me further.
Life's shit.
And I have to deal with it.
Deal with it instead of whining about trying to hope it moves along faster.
Instead of endlessly hoping that school would just end already.
Because the end of one suffering doesn't mean the end of it forever.
It doesn't mean that after JC, all my problems will be solved.
Because it most probably won't.
And if the only place that the problem exists is in my mind.
Then I'm the only person who can stop it.
I'm going to free myself.
Let go of my insecurities.
Leave the belief that somewhere in the corner, someone's talking about me.
It may be true.
But it's not always true.
And even so.
It doesn't matter.
Especially when I have people who love me.
If one person's enough to amount to something.
To mean something.
Anything.
Then nothing else matters.
And I know.
I just know that I have at least one person.
It gets better.
And I'm going to make it better.
So.
I should be okay.
I'm going to be okay.
I'm okay.
Thank you for lunch.
7:15 PM
