Recalling

This is another flashback post. This time the journal entry goes all the way back to December 2, 2009. Once you're done trying to remember what the heck was going on and what kind of civilization we lived in back then, consider I was a college freshmen at the time of writing. Also, I'd like to point out that I've changed a great deal since then--I've learned to love myself. Also, I grew half an inch. Haha. No, that's not true; but the whole loving myself thing is for sure! I'm a calmer, comfortable person now--at least I try hard to be. And trying counts for something, I think. I never thought college would change me so much, but I guess that's a part of growing up. Mark my words though: I solemnly swear to retain my childish sense of amazement as I grow old.


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Originally written December 2, 2009. Posted with minor alterations.

12-02-2009

I was in public speaking class today, when a pretty girl named Grace touched my shoulder and laid her land on it enough for me to glace back and give her a reassuring smile. That touch, the warmth from her small hand, the sense of company and of not being alone, was so foreign to me that I was very startled when I first felt her hand on my shoulder. But that touch revived feelings inside my body that I had forgotten I was capable of. At the same time, I was warm and full and felt peaceful, as if something inside me had quieted. She's a beautiful girl, but it's not solely because of her hair or smile or breasts; it's because she connected with me on a level far from intellectual. It was a primal level, one I rarely feel, and I sincerely wish that was not so.

Why do they laugh without me, exclude and push me? Why do I feel so alone inside of my body?
No.
It is not true they push you away; you push them.
It is not true they exclude you; you exclude them.
No.
It is not true they laugh without you; you frown at them.
No.
It is not true they're happy without you; you're unhappy without them.

This failing facade of apathy hides nothing. My true feelings are always just below my despondent surface.

I wait for them to come. I wait for them to connect with me as I am--cheerless, mean, arrogant. I wait for them, but they never come. They never see past my exterior no matter how much I want them to. I want to be pried open like a box and show what's inside me to another human being. I want to know my innards are just like everyone else's. I want to be part of something that has joy and warmth. I want the bridge to be built, the call to be answered: I'm desperate for release, but no one's willing. They see my condition and condemn me for my fears and short comings.

Instead of the sweet, the bitter came; instead of the warm, I get the cold. When I wish for humility, an arrogant mind teaches me more hate.

Is the journey long from my island to theirs? How long will I have to swim--when I'm already inept--until I hear lifting music and see glowing lights living warmly in happy homes.

Will I even be welcomed?

Who am I to argue if they so choose to exile me back to my island, where I will die as I have lived: alone, abandoned, and empty. What do they expect of me, and more importantly, what do I truly expect from them?

But wait. Right now it's come to me why I am so far removed. They do not condemn me nearly as much as I condemn myself. They respond to me as I respond to myself: with distance, uncertainty, and contempt. As they glance at me, I feel something is amiss.

What can I do but continue on?

Change my attitude. Change my self-loathing into self-respect. Remove my thin, pathetic coverings and expose the human me.


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That's where it ends.

When I read this entry over and over, I feel so sorry for the person writing it. I know exactly what is going through his head, every fear and every erroneous train of thought, because it was me. Will people notice this or thought flaw? Why do they talk to easily to each other when I struggle to find words in similar situations? Am I good enough for anyone to actually like my personality?

Boy, oh boy, tough questions! But not impossible to answer. It was through learning to appreciate my life and improving my self-respect that I righted my silly wrongs. Self-respect is truly a fickle thing; yet it's possible through deep introspection and lots of love. Once I learned to love myself was I capable of appreciating and loving others.

And yet, I've got a long way to go. After all, I'm only 19! Haha! I've got a whole fresh life waiting to be lived happily. :)

But here's another question: How? How does one learn to love him or herself?

I'm sorry, but I don't know how to answer that question. It's possible that every psychological human problem is intrinsically the same--not feeling loved, not feeling safe, etc. But heck if I don't believe in a cure-all remedy that's right for everyone. On the other hand, I've always felt a sincere hug, kind words, and undivided attention are good ways to help people through emotional problems. I know these seem like small trinkets of consolation, but I think they could be enough. After all, the universe, as big as it is, is made up of smaller units.

Whew, too much heavy stuff! Haha. Here's a nice little video for y'all. G'night. BAM-BAMBAMBAMBAM-BAM!