I think that I will never be fully better because I am so discontent with how the world works. This is what I have to do to survive in a world that hurts innocent people, takes good people, that cares more about football than it does its children, that serves tripple whoppers at burger king, that is so obsessed with posessions and “success” that isn’t really success at all. We live in a world that revolves around changing yourself to fit the world, spewing out meaningless phrases like “Bloom where you’re planted,” “Just do your best,” “Everything happens for a reason,” and “Everything will be ok.” People just numb themselves with alcohol, with drugs, with losing their identity to families, to work, to fast food restraunts, and watching the lives that they wish they could live on movie screens and on stages. I’ve had enough of this. But I can’t change the world. I can change myself, though, and figure out how to deal with this incredibly unjust and unfulfilling world. I guess that’s what life is about.
I want to see the good in things. And I do. But I’ve lost the idealism of my childhood. I no longer believe I can do anything I want. I realized that I have limitations. But I just can’t accept that most people never really live, that so many people harbor enough bitterness in their hearts to poison their bodies, where little girls grow up and wonder why their dads think that money is more important than they are. I can’t accept that wives realized on their 50th birthday that they’ve never been allowed to be the person they are inside. I can’t accept that so many girls like me hurt so badly and starve themselves because maybe that will get out the inherent evil and lonliness that comes with being human.
If life were actually like photographs, I think I could be happy. If there were just freeze frame moments that could be analyzed and held close, I could figure things out. But this constantly moving, dizzying, up and down and right and wrong and good and bad which isn’t really good or bad at all but an illusion of someone’s opinion of right and wrong… it’s too much.
I used to think I had a good head on my shoulders. I used to think that I could feel things more deeply than other people can. But maybe it’s a curse. I wake up every morning praying that my forced optimism can overrule what I actually feel and see.
I watched Little Women this week, and several quotes stuck out. They match my life perfectly:
If only I could be like father and crave violence and go to war and stand up to the lions of injustice. -Jo
Oh, Jo. Jo, you have so many extraordinary gifts; how can you expect to
lead an ordinary life? You’re ready to go out and – and find a good use
for your talent… Go,
and embrace your liberty. And see what wonderful things come of it.
Your heart understood mine. In the depth of the fragrant night, I
listened with ravished soul to your beloved voice. Your heart
I want so badly to be anything but ordinary. I want to stand up for what I believe in, to fight against every wrong in the world. But more than anything, I just want to be understood. Maybe that’s the same thing, anyway.