Saturday, October 29, 2011

Everyone's Got Something

I don't find myself in too many situations that I don't know how to deal with and I rarely find myself making super wrong decisions. I think out most, if not all, of my moves and that's why my seemingly small, self-destructive moods wreck havoc on my logical side and make me question why I do the things I do.

As previously stated I've been on the depressed side of life lately, and have been really down on myself. I don't find myself smart or attractive or any of the things I worked so hard to see in myself previously. And for an ego boost, I did something out of character for me and woke up feeling ashamed of myself and where I was heading, and noted that, though it was a one time thing over the span of a few days it still was something that normally I wouldn't do.

In my head at the time it was a means to an end; I wanted attention, any kind, and that was a quick and easy way to acheive it but yet, in the end it didn't fill that part of me that's sad and wanting for something. In fact, it just made it worse, like I was feeding it by trying to stop it, adding on to the feeling of worthlessness and loneliness.

After realizing what I was doing, and why, it made it easier to make a clean break from it, but I think I'm one of the lucky ones. True, I still feel the way I feel, but I'm pulling out of it. And admittedly, my self-destructive thing isn't as bad as many depressed people's may be, and for that I'm grateful. But I do know that it can be a broad spectrum. It could be drinking and drugs, risky behaviors with strangers, self-harm, or as simple as pictures on the internet, but everyone has a "something," and knowing that makes me feel oddly better.

Knowing that, although different, everyone has something that alerts them or others when they aren't truly themselves makes me feel not as alone. And although I wish I could take back my something, doesn't mean that I necessarily regret it as it's shown me another side, albeit a darker one, to my personality. More importantly though, it's shown me a way out of it so that I can avoid it in the future.

Thursday, October 27, 2011

Depression Is Super Real

I'm getting depressed again. And not just that superficial, "oh woe is me" type sh*t, but legit depressed. It's happened enough times now where I know the difference and know when it's setting in, but still I feel so powerless to stop it.

It's this feeling of loneliness, a retreating into myself further despite knowing I should try doing the opposite. It's like drowning with nothing to hold onto, and nothing to hold you in place so that you stop sinking. It's shame, and not wanting to tell people how you really feel for fear of bursting into tears when you know you're the "rock" to them and no one needs a crumbling stone. Contrary to popular belief, it isn't silent; it's loud, obnoxious negative thoughts that drown out anything good. And it's here.

I started noticing it and realizing it wasn't a normal thing in my mid-teens. Everyone else was always some variant of happy, or at least compliant, in their lives and the twists and turns, whereas I rarely was either. Then, just like now, I thought that people have too much going on in their lives to really see that sinking behind my eyes, so they ramble on about this or that when I'm wishing they'd feel it or at least see it. They never do, and I always lose faith in people and their supposed heightened emotional perception.

As the person other people go to for solace and strength, I find this feeling a weak thing that makes me less of who I'm supposed to be. I'm supposed to be a beacon, I'm supposed to be constant. I'm supposed to be...all these things that I can't be when I get this way. And it makes me angry, not only at myself, but at the people that surround me. They keep calling and talking and adding so much more noise...and the moment I try and interject, to let someone in on the fact that I'm not myself, they suddenly have something more pressing to do.

That always stings, no matter how or when it happens; no matter how I feel generally, people using me cuts deep and makes me question my want of company, companionship and whether I am better off being lonely than surrounded by people who may or may not care. It spirals and spirals until I convince myself to be alone and work through it myself, but the older I get, the longer it takes to pull myself back out of it. But I never feel like I have the option to share or shove that part of me onto someone else, and I never feel as if that's fair to them.

Moral of the story is, I'm depressed. I'm working on getting out of it. And if you know a "strong" and steady person in your life, on occasion, in between telling them how fabulous or f*cked up your life may be, ask about them. Notice them. See them. Be there for them. You could be the person giving hope to the hopeless and letting a person who loves you know love them too by simply being there.


Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Sometimes I Forget My Creativity

It's odd how we never know how much we use a letter until we have to keep copying and pasting it. In any case, that's just what I did. And what I'm going to do again sometime this week. I just stopped by this time to leave a little piece of me that I always forget exists behind; the poet. I don't rhyme much, and I often write about love and the depth of the human mind/body/spirit...and now's no different. Sometimes there's so much going on in my head, in my heart and in my soul that there's nothing I can do to get it out. Nothing but write. I call it "Know Me" here goes...

If I could take all the things I feel about you
Think about you
Dream about you
And hold them in my hands
Wrap them in a gift box
A big one
And give them to you
I don't know if I could

I want you to know me
To see me
Beyond the shy smiles
And easy laughs
And into my person
I want you to want to
See me that is
And be with me in spite of
Or because of seeing me
Not even exclusively
Okay a little exclusively
But how do I convey all that
Without seeming so so so...

I don't want you to think
That I'm this breezy, prim and proper girl
I'm elusive
And admittedly a little vulgar
Okay f*ck it, very vulgar
And that's not even touching the depth of me
But I'm so afraid
Afraid that getting to know a person will change me
Afraid that I'm never enough
Afraid of never being seen
Not just by you, but anybody
So how would you know?

So how would you know I'm this girl?
This funny, smart and loving girl
Who's favorite word is four-letters and can't be said in church?
Who's favorite thing to do is sit quietly and breathe deeply as if air was precious?
Who loves to joke and tease, talk and listen just as much as sit in silence or jam to music?
If all you've ever seen of me were glimpses
Shadows of the me that hides behind that veneer
That ice
That barrier that was built once upon a time when I loved too hard
And fell too quick
With no one to catch me or bandage my broken heart?

I won't lie and say I'm the model girlfriend
Because sh*t, I don't know
I won't lie and say you're my ideal guy
Because hell, you're about as gun shy as I am
And in the time that we've known each other 
We still don't know each other
But damn it, I want to
Know you that is
And have you know me too
And not just like two people
Who happen to be similar
And fall into some sh*t they don't want to be in
Just for the sake of not being lonely
I want us to be known to each other
In a way that's comfortable

If I could write you reams and reams
If I could hold what I feel for you in my hands
If I could show you what the landscapes of my dreams look like
I might
But instead
I'm either going to act like it all means nothing
That you don't weigh heavy on my mind
Conscious and subconscious
And let the opportunity to be
Be myself, be with you, be myself with you
Pass me by
I'm going to throw it all in your face
In a frenzy of emotion
Of words
Of hand gestures
And with a breathless sigh
And shake of the head
Leave it all to you to decide
If you could
If you would 
If you want to
Because I want you to
Get to know me

Thursday, October 6, 2011

I'd Rather Be a B*tch Than Be Disrespected

I hate being blatantly disrespected and when I am disrespected I get a little vicious. Fact o' life.

It doesn't happen often, but occasionally I get stepped to like a dollar fifty street walker. Usually I breeze by and let it roll off my shoulders as I know I'm not like that, and I get joy in knowing that those people treating me like that will never get the opportunity to know if I'm like that or not; I'm just a really cute, feisty girl who burst their balls turned them down and kept it moving. But I recently found myself straight schooling a brotha.

At first the young lad was mearly an annoyance, somebody giving me the up down and trying to get in with me for reasons I don't understand. Honestly, I'm not the girl for the pretty boys. Do I find myself fancying pretty boys? Sure, but they usually have something beyond their sinewy biceps and glowing eyes. Intelligence. Self-awareness. Mystery. Something to keep me interested beyond the simple cat-and-mouse (or lion-caribou) game I tend to play with guys I'm interested in.

Not. This. One. The cat-and-mouse didn't even get that far, as I was a tiger and he was so not worth the headache it would've taken to muster up interest to bring out the chase, let alone more than one claw. Don't get me wrong, he's cute, almost as cute as he thinks he is, but that underlying, nauseating arrogance and vapidness just made me turn up my nose.

The thing about it is, when men boys come at me sexually without knowing who I am, I'm immediately put off, not only because I'm still a virgin, but because I feel that's disrespect in the highest to consider me not even worth getting to know; it feels like they're trying to take something from me without giving anything. How do you ask for the most private, intimate part of me, without going through any of the real stuff that shelters that part?

You don't. But he did. And boy did I tell him about himself. I don't think I hurt his feelings much, as he said he'd been told what I was saying before and I padded it in after-thought with the sweet morsel that he just wasn't my type and I wasn't his and we could go on like none of this ever happened. Including ever meeting each other. Now I've probably set myself up to be known as "that b*tch" between him and his friends or the challenge that's not fawning and feinding after him.

I'm the kind of girl who thinks every moment is a teachable one. I don't want him to think that mess was cute or cool, because it wasn't; it never works for women about their business and who know who they are (it often works for girls, which is a whole 'nother entry all together). I don't like being a mean girl usually and tend to try to diffuse the situation but for once, I don't mind being the b*tch.