I'm home at last, I feel like I've been gone forever. What was supposed to be a simple fun-loving-family vacation turned into a serious quest of self.
ah yes, the quest of self, a long and seemingly tragic one at that. What follows is a direct entry from my journal I only wrote in one day. But shit, its 10 pages long...
People often run to the road to discover why they are who they are at home. On the road you can be a completely different person, you have no name and you have the luxory of making up an identity. As we've moved all around NY I've been analyzing my sentence structure, body language and thought patters from the past hoping that when I added 2 and 2 together I would get a window through which I could see my true self. It didn't work. You are who you are when you aren't thinking about who you are.... bascially meaning that when you aren't thinking you have to rely on your first inital reaction- leaving you no time to fabricate a response. This instict is essentially who you really are. So where did all this analysis get me? 500 miles away from home surrounded by men who have more hair on their chests than they have skin on their bodies, a suitcase filled with postcards and photographs and a headache I've had for 2 days. So my second to last day I've decided to try something new. I'm relaxing. I keep myself in a state of waking sleep on the road because I don't need anyone to tell me if we're there yet. I've slept in a different city every night for four nights- and every time we stop, I feel like I've already been there.
But its working. I've realized I known little more about myself than I'm shrouded in doubt and insecurity.. like most teens. I know that I long for a religion I can throw myself into with a "reckless abandon" but I refuse to let myself or anyone else force me into one that has so much as one teaching I don't believe. That may make me foolish or closed minded but at least thats another thing I can add to the list of what I know about myself.
I also realized that I hurt the people I love for 2 reasons. the first is that I am awfully niave. I've had myself convinced for so long that the world was a puzzle I'd already figured out... and I was so wrong. The second is a theory, and quite possibley completely wrong.
The difference between knowing, understanding, and believing something is huge. (ex) I KNOW someone loves me or believes that they love me if they say " I love you" . I'm not at a stage in my life yet where I'm comfortable enough with myself to understand why someone would love me... so I attempt to compensate by jumping to the next step - believing. So I think to myself either conciously or subconciously (I've been wondering if there really is a difference...) " prove it." How do you prove anything? well 7th grade science class tells us that you use the scientific method. So in my true scientific spirit I go through all the steps.
Observation: Someone says they love me
Research: thinking back to all prior experiences where love was expressed or where love was believed to be present, how was it shown or not shown? And what makes the expression of those feelings "love" and not somehting else? (you may recognize this stage as the one where I watch a LOT of meg ryan movies)
Hypothesize: do they genuinely love me? (yes) or (no)
but all of this is just crap. during all the hours I spent alone I did a lot of thinking... and it just doesn't make sense. the aforementioned pattern is one I am currently trying to bust by incorporating the "understading" stage. But how does one go about learning how to love themselves? well luckily for me there seems to be a magnificient plethora of books published on the topic. most of them by opera.
Also I've realized that there are 2 different sides to me, I'm very Dr. Jekle and Mr. Hyde minus the drugs, insanity, and murder.
There is my sciencey side that wants the world to view me as competent, intellegent, responsible and capable. This is the side I think that gets me called "mom" very often. This is the driving force behind my passion for sciences and medicine both holistic and conventional...and all that jazz.
Then there is the artistic side that will someday run off with a starving artist because he'll be " the only one thats ever understood me ever" (I can hear myself saying it already)
behold the poet, the story teller, the passionate debator, the brooding teenager, the dreamer, the aspiring musician and actress, the volunteer... etc. The side that wants to learn how to read tarot cards and palms, enter poetry contests, and stargaze with anyone willing to spend a few hours out in the cold. the side that gets me called " slut " only half jokingly. This is the side that will stare at the ceiliing for hours trying to figure out solutions to problems that don't exist.
Combine these 2 sides and you get me, for better or worse. I'm not saying I have multiple personalities. This is more of cateloging the different characteristics and hopes I have. So I suppose this is step 1 of becoming comfortable with myself. In 2 short days I'll be home again and hopefully able to apply the information I've gathered. This year is going to be my quest for purity and truth. I want to be able to sit and view the world without judgement. One should never be their own biggest mystery and I don't want to spend my life as a stranger to myself. I don't want to make up excuses because I can't break patterns that are completely under my control. In the past 2 years I've blurred the line between strength and cruelty. Thats one thing I plan to rectify. In the meantime I plan to revive other's faith in myself by proving that I can be better than who I've been lately. I'd ask you to wish me luck but for the first time in my life I don't feel like I need it.
So the conclusion of this is that I am starting over. I feel rejuvinated, ready to take on the world - so bring on the dark skies baby. I can take it. I am armed with the secret of what my mom looks like wearing a bandana and her pj's dancing to low rider with a mop in one hand and a cigarette in the other. jealous?