|raisedbymoogles (raisedbymoogles) wrote,|
@ 2009-04-02 22:24:00
|Current music:||Full Frontal Assault - OCRemix|
|Entry tags:||angst, mental health, myself|
Why I will never have an autobiography: my story is so goddamn banal.
A couple of recent LJ posts pinged off my memories of the elementary and middle school years. (Here, on phys ed, and here on reading in class - my own contribution is here if you're interested.) It brings back a lot, and as a result I've been giving myself headaches and losing sleep trying to lock the memories back up again.
Look, I don't want to give the impression that my childhood was oh so horrible. I never experienced anything you'd see in, say, a Lifetime movie. Yes, I was picked on, yes, I was an outcast, but I was never afraid to go to school like some kids are and there was never a year I didn't have at least one friend (even if she wasn't in my grade). In a lot of ways I had plenty of advantages. I had my brain and my imagination, and it seemed like that was two more things than any of Them had.
But words leave their marks too, don't they? Long after you think you've left them behind, those old wounds open again, and time's only made them deeper, or maybe I was tougher back then than I am now. I know all the platitudes you drag out at times like this - forgive and forget, a grudge only hurts the one who holds it, let the past go. I'd love to let the past go. The past won't let go of me.
I know I need something - therapy, confrontation, maybe just to hit something - but I really can't afford another mental breakdown right now. Maybe in a few years it'll be safe to go catatonic for a week or so while I grapple with my demons. Right now the best I can do is pack everything back up in the back of my mind again, and hope it doesn't leak too much.
But I had a brief nap today, and I'm feeling better about things. More or less.
I hope it's sunny on Saturday. I want to go to the Cherry Blossom festival then.