If Wishes Were Horses, Beggars Would Ride

I wish I had the inspiration rather than just the slight motivation to write something more than just about myself. I wish I had the inspiration to write a story. A play. An anti-government manifesto. Something.

I wish I knew how to not feel so alone when I'm by myself.

I wish my moods were not so fucking fragile.

I don't really know what to say except that I'm miserable a lot of the time. It has nothing to do with where I am, who's with me, or what I'm doing here. I love New York City. I love my school. I love the opportunities and my life and my friends, although I often feel like a third wheel. Second best.

I want my best friend. I wish Danielle were here.

There are so many times where I feel like if I'm left alone I might go crazy or fall apart. It makes me want to cry or run away or run out into the streets and find something, somebody, somewhere, someone to help me. I want to be a part of someone. To be needed. To need and be needed back in equal amounts. For every reaction there is an equal and opposite reaction, right? Then how come when I need people, they never need me back the same way or the same amount?

Fuck you, Newton.

I'm a whirlwind of emotions right now. I'm trying not to put a stopper in them or turn them into something they're not. I'm hurt. I'm delicate. My heart is beating hard and my throat is tight and I wish my parents were here so I could go wake them up and be held.

I miss being held. I miss love. I miss being needed and loved and not feeling like I have to walk around on eggshells with everyone because what if they don't like me? What if I upset them?

I want to be able to be irrational and unreasonable with someone who won't turn around and complain about it to someone else or hold it against me or judge me for it. Who'll let me be irrational or unreasonable and know that it's just what I need and just part of who I am and love me for it. I would do the same for them. I always do the same for those I truly love.

I know part of the reason I feel alone is just my demeanor. My outlook. But I'm awkward and I'm different and I don't open up to people which is maybe why I judge them so much. I judge them before they can judge me.

Because I know that if I open up to them, there's a large probability that they'll betray me or they won't be able to handle me or open up to me in return. Not truly open up.

God, this is whiny.

I feel like crying, but all I have is a knot in my throat and nothing's coming of it.

I need friends outside of school. I need friends outside of theatre.

I need someone to contact me and ask me what I'm doing. I want someone to invite me somewhere that isn't a party where everyone's invited. I want someone to invite me first and foremost, not because I live with someone else or because we come as a group. I want someone to initiate with me.

I feel alone. I feel like there's something wrong with me that makes people not want me to be the best or the first for them.

I want to write. What can I write?

I'll never be done walking on eggshells and it makes me sick and it makes me exhausted. What's the point of a life lived on eggshells?

Be Kind, Be Clean, Be Open, Be Smart. But Most of All, Be True to Your Heart.

I'm not sure what I want to talk about tonight. I kept thinking throughout the week that I would write about things going on in my head or in my life, but I never got the urge when I was home to sit down and type things out.

It's now Valentine's Day and none of the things in my head or going on in my life this weekend are things that I really want to write about. Maybe I should because I don't want to, but I don't think that I will. I'll save that for my therapist.

So it's Valentine's Day. And I'm alone. I've only really ever been with someone for one Valentine's Day and that was four years ago. 2005. I haven't had a date or even a romantic encounter since. Not a real one, anyway.

God, my life is fucked up.

I don't want this to be a whiny entry. I'm aware that I could go out if I wanted to and meet a random guy and ask him out and have a one night stand or whatever. I'm attractive enough. But that's not who I am and it isn't who I want to be. I don't want a boy for the sex, although that would definitely be nice. I want a boy for the love. I need companionship. I hate being alone all the time. And this city makes it even worse. It's so easy here to feel completely disconnected and isolated.

Like tonight. Both of my roommates are out at the same party, but I wasn't invited. I don't know that I would have gone anyway. I'm sitting on the futon, having just watched a scary, slightly goofy movie that made me weirdly emotional. Everything makes me weirdly emotional.

Which makes me think that maybe I'm not capable of having a relationship right now. I'm not stable enough. I don't want to be a psycho girlfriend. Ryan and his family thought I was psychotic after he broke up with me. Or maybe it was just easier to think that than to try to understand. But now I have a complex...now I'm scared that I'll always be that girl, even if I wasn't really. And I'm scared of people.

I'm scared of people who don't keep their promises like I do. I'm scared of believing and making plans and then finding out that the other person doesn't want those plans any more, or worse, never wanted them...or tells me that for reasons that I can't begin to truly understand. Or want to understand.

I don't know. I'm rambling. I want love so badly but it scares me so much. When I love, I love with everything that I am. I give all that I have and then I expect everything in return...but other people don't seem to be willing or able to give themselves completely. And then eventually they back out and I fall apart.

Things Fall Apart. By Chinua Achebe.

Supposedly these are the things that will make me a great actress if I embrace them.

Okay, so let's talk about this. I have one or two classes in which I can really easily open up. In Alan's class in particular, I can cut myself right open and bleed all over the floor and sometimes I can paint pictures with that blood. If that makes sense. Channel it into something useful. I can tap into that in Jackie's class in a different way through the exercises that we do. Once in a while, I can open myself up like that in Ken's class when I remember not to be "tentative". I've made vast improvements in that class this semester. But I'm still tentative and guarded in my other classes. Like Terri keeps telling me, I'm not "really working" because I'm not opening up and taking the risks like she wants me to. Not that I'm not responding or responsive. She sees me work and she says that it's always "decent" but that it can "be richer". I know exactly what she means, but I don't know how to open up without pushing it.

No. That's not true. I do. I just need to figure out, like Ken said, what it is that's keeping me from doing so in the classes where I'm not. Like Terri's. Terri is terri-fying. I hate myself a little for that pun. But it's true. Terri does make everything feel like a test. What am I afraid of? That if I open up, she won't think that I'm a leading lady? Bullshit on that. If I open up, she'll be more confident that I am. It's when I'm open that she sees that. It's when I'm self-conscious that she calls me erratic. I know what I have to do. I'll give it a try next Monday.

So what else? So much else. I'm learning a lot from my therapist. But I need to remember to be patient with myself. There are no quick and permanent fixes for anxiety or depression. A pill is a cover-up and not one that I want. I want to learn how to handle it on my own because the last thing I want is to be dependent on the pills for the rest of my life...well. Maybe that's second-to-last. The last thing I want is to feel like this all the time for the rest of my life. I obviously have a lot of issues that I've stored up for a very long time that need to be...not "dealt with" but...examined? Investigated. Ones even that I didn't realize were issues.

I think my behavior Friday night is a pretty clear indication of just that.

I don't want anything to do with drugs of any kind anymore. I don't want to be around people when they're doing them, I don't want to really talk about them, and I absolutely don't want to do them myself. For a long time, I've tried to sort of desensitize myself to them. Not everyone has the kind of experiences my family has had with drugs and lots of people make jokes about it or smoke pot in moderation or whatever. It's a common thing for people my age. But that doesn't mean I have to like it or want anything to do with it or even try it.

It doesn't mean that the people who do use it on occasion or often or whatever are bad. Certainly my brothers, even at their worst, weren't bad. But even just pot makes me unhappy and that's okay. I'm not being unreasonable if I leave a party when someone pulls it out. I'm not being unfair or unreasonable not wanting it in my apartment. It's completely valid and understandable and furthermore, regardless of anyone's personal views on legalizing, it is currently illegal.

So that's it. No more pretending to myself or anyone else that I'm okay with drug use. Because I'm not. I'm really, really not.

And if that means that sometimes I leave a party...or don't hang out with someone...or I have to be a bitch and stand up for myself and for my space and my rights, then so be it.

I lose sight of who I am and what I believe sometimes when the vast majority doesn't seem to agree with me. It's in my nature to be introspective and to very seriously and frequently reconsider my stances on controversial issues. But there were stands that I took in my more stubborn, narrow-minded days that I quite like: no pot or drugs or any kind. Alcohol in moderation. Being a good person, as long as it doesn't interfere with being a happy and healthy person. Not needing romance or a man, but being open to love if it comes my way. And not being a whore, no matter how desperate I feel for physical love. Principles that are very central to who I am...morals that, when I go against them, I always regret. I always feel guilty. And maybe that's closer to who I am than the other things I've been trying. It doesn't matter what the culture I live in tells me...I need to listen to my heart and to my soul, and right now, it's saying to be kind, be clean, be open, be smart. But most of all, be good to your heart. I just put that together to rhyme. Originally it was just "be kind, be clean, be smart". Good. True? Good? True? True. True. Good? True.

I miss the days when having a good time and being social didn't require the consumption of alcohol.

I miss a lot of things. But I like the places my life seems to be going and though I'm really very anxious to get there and anxious where I am, I'm going to try to be patient with myself and with my situations.

In the words of Viola: O Time, thou must untangle this, not I; It is too hard a knot for me t' untie.