Saturday, January 13, 2007
(Watching: Encino Man)It's that time of year again, when you're forced to look at your life and decide where you want to be. It always takes me a while to decide on my New Years' resolutions. To figure out what I'm willing to achieve. Because there's no point in setting goals you have no intention of accomplishing. And it's useless to make impossible promises to yourself. This year, I only have one resolution: make it count. Take one step towards achieving my dreams. I suffer a restlessness of the soul and must constantly be moving forward.
I've discovered recently that I'm no longer happy where I am. I don't love my job anymore. Winter is getting me down, and working outside in below freezing temperatures is not my idea of a good time. I'm sick of dealing with obnoxious snowboarders and coming home with bruises all over from abusive "guests". Even before I went on vacation, I was unhappy, but I didn't discover how unhappy I really was until I got back. It seems to always come back to a lack of creativity. Yes, my job is interesting. I wanted that, and I'm thankful for it. But interesting isn't enough anymore. I need to be inspired. To pass inspiration on. I'm a dreamer. A visionary. And unless I can be in a position to create and inspire people, I can't truly be happy.
So I have this one resloution. It's simple. Take one step forward. Finish writing my play. Go to film school. It doesn't matter what I do, as long as I do something. And I will. Because I have to.
posted by Alli at 6:24 PM
|
Monday, October 16, 2006
I am sick of being treated like shit.
I can't live here. Why? Because my sister is a bitch. She is an egotistical, obnoxious, self-obsessed bitch who treats people like crap to make herself feel good.
The problem, of course, started with my parents. They spent my childhood making me feel like crap. When I was mad about something, they'd laugh at me. When I was upset, they'd laugh at me. It became a family event. I used to eat dinner in my room to avoid being mocked. And sometimes I wasn't even allowed to do that, so I'd go hungry. I'd listen from my room as they made fun of me.
You see, my parents had this idea that their child was going to be perfect. In fact, I don't even think they expected a child. I think they expected a robot. When I acted like a child, I was punished. Apparently I haven't acted my age since I was three years old.
This entry seems really heavy, but I've gotta get it out. I've been holding it inside for way too long.
I was seeing child psychiatrists since I was eight. For what reason? I don't even know. They didn't even know. My psychiatrists were the only people who told me there was nothing wrong with me. How fucked up is that? And I didn't stay with any one doctor for a very long time. Some I only saw once.
When I was in grade nine, I went to my last session with a new psychiatrist and opened up a bit. I had taught myself to keep all emotions inside at a young age, but I did the best I could. At the end of the session, my mom was called into the office and the shrink suggested family counselling. I remember walking out of the building, my mother telling me what a loser I was. "Always blaming us for your problems," she hissed. "Always making it look like we're the bad guy." That was the last time they ever made me see a shrink.
Now, children are very impressionable. If my parents could make me loathe myself before I even reached grade 5, think of how their behaviour would have affected my sisters. I'm paying for it now, because my sisters don't like me. They don't respect me. I'm still learning to like myself, and it's hard. I missed out on a lot of life because of insecurity.
I need to also admit that our poor upbringing has affected my sisters in other ways. Sure, I got the worst of it, but they've had to put up with it too. But they're pretty. And in this day and age, that's an important thing in life. Do you know what it's like to live with two beautiful people? Can you even imagine it? Never feeling like you're good enough. Not just second best, but even further back. I'm sick of people telling me how beautiful they are. Because everytime someone tells me how pretty my sisters are, they're saying that I'm not. And I already know that. I can't do a thing about it. Except hate myself more.
I think the worst thing about all this is that they have let all the attention and admiration go to their heads. They know how great they are. And they know how far below them I am. They've always known that I suck as a human being. Congrats to my parents on that. But I can't help thinking that some of that damage would have been repaired if I was pretty. And I hate that appearances matter so much in this world.
I don't really know where I was going with all this, but I'm glad to get it out. Because ever since I moved back here, I've been feeling worse and worse about myself. My job has helped a bit with my self-confidence, but then I always have to some back here. And what I have to go through to get here is insane. Especially when you consider what I'm coming back to.
On the bright side (yes, there is one), I don't have to put up with this for much longer. I've found an apartment downtown and am going in to sign the lease tomorrow. In just two weeks, I'll be free completely of all this. With a new job I love, living in a city I love, it'll be like starting fresh.
Just two more weeks to survive this hell.
posted by Alli at 5:05 PM
|