29 March 2007
starting over.
I sat in my room this morning and tried to do a million different things, but I couldn't seem to concentrate on any of them. I tried to read, I tried to tackle that impossible mountain of homework, I tried to put away some laundry, but I couldn't finish anything I started. I sat in my room this morning and hated everything I couldn't do.
I've had all these experiences, said and done all these things, but what do I have to show for it? I am a heartbroken peak-too-sooner with a penchant for screwing things up. I am a tired old has-been at seventeen; my wonder years have already come and gone. Abandoned by my closest friends, I have nothing left to do but let myself sink deeper and more permenantly into the despair I've created for myself, into a disease most people don't even believe is real.
The things that used to be my greatest passions are now my greatest fears. I hate the shell of a person I've become. I don't know this dull, passionless person, this person who can barely muster the strength to get out of bed every morning. It's not just one thing; it's everything. There is no beauty left here.
I have nothing left to live for, but the good news is that this isn't me. I may have lived out the best years of my life, I may have used up all the happiness I was allowed, but that's okay, because there is another person left. I am nothing now, so I will become something again.
It can't happen overnight. It can't because I can't just forget the things that have left me like this. I can't forget them because I don't want to. Those people, those experiences, those words and sideways looks and miserable nights, those things have opened my eyes; they've made me who I am. They've shaped the way I view the world, they've made me love and hate the things I do. They've shown me how to live.
I can't say I'm reinventing myself, because there is nothing left to reinvent. I am inventing myself. I will find the things that used to bring me joy and I will let myself love them again. I will rediscover the friends who have made me who I am. I will remember passion. I will be me again, whoever that is.
I've had all these experiences, said and done all these things, but what do I have to show for it? I am a heartbroken peak-too-sooner with a penchant for screwing things up. I am a tired old has-been at seventeen; my wonder years have already come and gone. Abandoned by my closest friends, I have nothing left to do but let myself sink deeper and more permenantly into the despair I've created for myself, into a disease most people don't even believe is real.
The things that used to be my greatest passions are now my greatest fears. I hate the shell of a person I've become. I don't know this dull, passionless person, this person who can barely muster the strength to get out of bed every morning. It's not just one thing; it's everything. There is no beauty left here.
I have nothing left to live for, but the good news is that this isn't me. I may have lived out the best years of my life, I may have used up all the happiness I was allowed, but that's okay, because there is another person left. I am nothing now, so I will become something again.
It can't happen overnight. It can't because I can't just forget the things that have left me like this. I can't forget them because I don't want to. Those people, those experiences, those words and sideways looks and miserable nights, those things have opened my eyes; they've made me who I am. They've shaped the way I view the world, they've made me love and hate the things I do. They've shown me how to live.
I can't say I'm reinventing myself, because there is nothing left to reinvent. I am inventing myself. I will find the things that used to bring me joy and I will let myself love them again. I will rediscover the friends who have made me who I am. I will remember passion. I will be me again, whoever that is.
3/29/2007
