See me…

OK.  Borrowing some courage from Alex tonight.  (This morning?  Feels like night until I’ve slept a few hours, so… still Tuesday to me!)

I commented to her that there were things I was afraid to write.  But I started this blog so I could tell those stories.  So, I’m going to try to tell them in pieces.  Bite-size chunks.

Who was I?  Sometimes I don’t remember.  She is so far away and I don’t remember how to see the world through her eyes.  I was invisible, most of the time.  I learned to cope with the world through observation, rather than interaction.  Receiving attention was painful.  To my very core, I was so uncomfortable with it.  And yet, I was constantly seeking it through one way or another.  But if I had it- I couldn’t dare to act like I deserved it.  There’s video of me, my senior recital.  A whole frickin’ audience there to listen to me sing for like, an hour.  I had a good voice and I knew it, but I couldn’t let myself act like it.  I loved to sing.  I hate that video.  It’s painful to watch because I can still feel that pain when I remember it.  KNOWING that… I can’t even find the words.  But instead of smiling and interacting with an audience, like I KNEW a good performer would, I pretty much just ignored them.  No eye contact, no smile, it’s so awkward.  It’s not like I didn’t know I was doing it, but you couldn’t have forced a smile on my face for the whole damn universe.  I was physically incapable of doing it.  I mean, I could smile “off-camera” but if it was in anyway attached to my own self-worth, I just couldn’t.  I was not meant to shine in the light.  That’s what I believed.  And I couldn’t dare to change that.  The very thought was offensive.

And I kinda hate her.

I honestly don’t know where those beliefs came from.  I’m lucky when it comes to family.  Lots of love and support, and yet…

Man, this was unbelievably hard for me to write.  But that’s good.  It felt different writing about it, kinda like when I wrote about self-harm.  This is a really really deep piece of me that I hate to look at.  And I right now I feel sad in my heart for how much I resent that poor stupid girl who couldn’t do any different.  (I know she wasn’t stupid- don’t judge me while I’m busy judging myself!)  And now I’ve kind of ruined it by making a joke.  That’s what happens when I get close to something in therapy, shed a few tears, make a sarcastic funny comment, and then it’s gone.  I’ve disconnected.  But… I’m learning.  And it kinda amazes me right now, how much easier it is to sit here and feel this shit while blogging.  This just might be the safest place in the world for me right now, and that’s kinda weird.

I feel like I want to verbally and emotionally vomit all over my keyboard.  How’s that for imagery?  But I’m not sure where to take this story next.  SO… bite sized chunk.  And I’ll just sit here while I feel it.  I think that’s good.

I WILL however leave you with a song…

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