saml

Dear Thrilling and Terrifying Public diary,

 

Sorry- still can’t get over that whole concept. Although I will admit it’s a little bizarre to write dear diary- I think part of me needs to believe this is private to really be honest. Or maybe part of me just wants to burst my giant bubble of an ego for being self-centered enough to believe these entries aren’t basically private anyway…. Well… ok… back to reality… I think I’ll just make each heading

Dear shitty laptop and whoever else gives a ***, There, I like that, it’s honest. Not too self important- not to condescending, and it makes me sound like a bad-ass. And yes, unfortunately being scene as a bad ass is still important to me. However less, there are still potent remnants of my trusty self-destructive adolescent rebellion. Each year though, they manifest themselves to a lesser and lesser degree- sort of… I think I’m at the age (coming up on my 18th birthday now) and I’ve put myself through enough bullshit to finally call the self-destruction quits. I don’t know- it’s not easy. It’s seems every human has some secret self-destructive habit, a bad-ass outlet if you will. I wonder if I can be content to make mine writing blogs on the internet. I hope so, because I am at the stage in my life where I really need to take good care of myself to stay sane. I really can’t afford the paradoxical luxury of teenage bullshit anymore. My readers (Translation: My shitty laptop) should know that I took some time off from college to pull myself together. It doesn’t feel great… I don’t know; to one day be the heroin who overcame the obstacles and the next the under-achiever who just couldn’t stay afloat… It’s hard… accepting it is hard and believing in myself after this setback is hard too. I don’t know- I just wanted to put that out there. It just occurred to me that I should not assume that you, yes You (still creepy), have already read my essay. I just wanted to update the eager world on the mental stability of Sam L today. I’m copying and pasting my little speech to Amy- It pretty much sums it up. O and Sorry for the train wreck of a blog that first submission was but I’m not going to lie, it was pretty true to my character.

I shall call this speech "The Post-Drama" 

In a lot of ways I have disowned the romanticism and over-drama I felt when I wrote this piece. I really believed I would never escape that part of my past; that it would always be such a big part of how I think and feel. It was so huge to me once and then time just passed and things became more important... but lately... I've been having a really really rough time.

Amy, I'm so sorry I've been so detached from this process. I know it's no excuse, but it's in my nature to disown everything that isn't happening right in front of me. I'm so numb so much of the time which is ironic because I devote my complete attention to each waking moment expecting to really feel. Does any of this make sense? It's relevant to what I'm about to tell you- I swear.

When I was 13 and 14, I devoted myself to a life of sex, drugs, and rock and roll to the best of my ability. Nothing existed to me but the present moments. My only goals were to get high and to numb the sobering voids- the ones where reality would sometimes force its way into my conscious and the shame, loneliness, and guilt would begin to float ashore. As you know, there was a particular instance in my past that left my parents no choice but to send me far away from the world I had come to know. I think I can comprehend for the first time, how much that saved my life.

After the wilderness program I spent my sophomore year in a rehabilitation center. There I learned to value myself enough to believe that I was worth a future. I understood for the first time, what a disservice it would be to myself and perhaps to others, if I wasted my potential for the sake of numbing pain. But unfortunately, over the years, I put those key life lessons on the back-burner and preoccupied my thoughts with the alienation I felt from my peers, the desire to be loved, and the desire to feel good.

At first it was ok. Junior year I decided to live with those pains because the guilt that I knew would come at the thought of relapse was just unbearable. I had been brain-washed in the way that I had practiced thinking that drugs, sex, and alcohol were bad so often that I was able to believe it for a while. I had practiced thinking that my future was important and so I had temporarily internalized that. Though productive, that year was very painful for me. I was caught up in resentment toward my parents for sending me away, toward rehab for turning me into a very confused and bitter loser, and toward my peers- for not showing any compassion. - That's what I miss most about rehab- the deep compassion everybody had for each other due to this one central understanding; that all issues, whether they appear big or small, ellicit some kind of emotion, and those emotions ellicit reactions. We have no right to judge others based on the way they choose to armor thier childhood pain. We can only sympathize and try to help- The real world is far less tactful and understanding. Everyone is so caught up in the lies they tell themselves that they don't have the energy to try and penetrate through anyone else's.

 That’s fair- I guess. There is a lot of truth in the idea that one should not sacrifice their priorities to take on the emotional burdens of others. But maybe it's not about being selfless? I have learned in the last few weeks that ones priorities should include taking care of one's own mental health to some extent, which is not possible with out listening and being listened to. Mental stability involves pursuing emotional support but the key is pursuing it with out relying on it. That’s where I have room for improvement.

I know it will always be important to me to understand and support the people around me and as I get older I find a few lovable people who share those same values. But after my 1st college application went in sometime last November, I have foolishly devoted all my time to trying to feel "good". Yes, there was a series of relapse in behavior.  I allowed myself to *** around, rationalizing that I had nothing more important to do and that my intentions were different this time. After all I had been in rehab for a year, if there is any inescapable learned skill imposed there, its self awareness. But what I did not realize at the time and still need to comprehend is that it's not so much about moment-to-moment self-awareness. To know that you are making an impulsive decision and to make it anyway doesn't really do ***. It's about being aware and staying aware of the fundamental truths in the world; that instant gratification goes as easily as it comes, and that delayed gratification, hard work, has real and long-lasting benefits. I'm so grateful to have the opportunity to comprehend that.

 One very sad teenage girl wrote a little memoir once. She developed a passion for expressing herself through writing and worked hard to discover a pretty and true way of communicating. And two years later, at a time when she is more lost and unstable then ever and thanks to rehab is acutely aware of it, her hard work pays off tenfold. I am a fucking published author!!!!! G-d, that feels gratifying. And yes, in case anyone needs reassurance, it feels more gratifying then the glamour of active teenage rebellion, more gratifying then the altered sensations of drugs, and sorry boys- but more gratifying than any males attention.

I’m in a really good place right now mentally, but unfortunately my surroundings don’t exactly reflect that. The sad truth about school for me right now is that if I work my ass off in the three classes I’m taking, I can maybe achieve Cs. It’s ironic because it’s not like I spent the last few months engaging in any horribly self-destructive behavior. To use the lingo I obtained in rehab; it was the relapse in behavior that led to the diminishing value of self, which in-turn lead to the relapse in thinking errors and unproductive priorities. To put it more simply, I started adolescence adopting the o so cliché philosophy; live free and die young. I then moved on to believe whole heartedly in the pursuit of happiness. But I’m older now and I think I’m mature enough for a much less vague self-definition. I haven’t actually developed one yet. I need some time to toil with word choice but don't worry it’s in the works…

 

Ok- So I'm a little bit of a lier- I am not quite as mentally stable as I claim to be in this speech. But I know I can get there- I am getting there. Um... Why am I writitng this? O yeah- because I can. I do feel better to get it out there... all though some words of encouragement might be nice... hint hint...;)

 

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