I Will Not Be a Square

I went to bed last night with a question burning on my mind. I woke feeling like I just sat through the second viewing of a movie hoping the outcome would be different. The outcome is always the same; never changing because it cannot change. I am not in a movie; I change. I can be more than the words that I type or whisper. I can be more than the lies I recite hoping no one can see through the ruse. I am a good person… I am a good person… I thought I was a good person. I need to know if I can be the kind of good person I want to be. Standards so high, the intention is really to fail. Did you know that about me? My question was, am I living a stereotype in denial? I knew the answer before I knew the question. Sometimes the question is the answer. This question was my answer. Knowing doesn’t feel good, though. It is good to know the truth. The truth can set you free. They say that this is half the battle. I have always been half way done then. It feels more like I haven’t taken one step forward in a while. In fact, it feels more like I am walking in the prints I already left. My foot doesn’t fit… I am making the prints bigger, wider, and fatter. Buddha says you are what you say you are. Not literal in the way that I can say, I am a bird. (Literal in more of how words have power.) If you say you will fail before you start, you have already failed. This is why I have so many words. I want to succeed before I start. You can talk so much that walking becomes impossible; a task that you put on a pedestal too high to reach. I talked up a good story with no intention of living it out… If I stop talking, will I live my dreams instead?

I thought I was shaped like a star being forced through a square slot. I just found out I was always a square, fitting precisely where I created myself to fit. Why did I create a square if I wanted a star? They say that you cannot solve a problem if you don’t get to the root and pluck it out from there. I don’t understand this concept. I understand how they relate, I just don’t understand how someone who doesn’t know me can pluck a root I cannot reach. If I can’t do it alone, what makes you think your guidance will help? A back seat driver in my own car of life. I can do this by myself… I can do this by myself; I need to do this by myself, stop looking at me. Leave me alone. I can do it. I can’t do it.

I thought I could, but in the middle of reaching for independence, I became more dependant than ever. This time, no one was there to be my crutch. Is it a sign of strength when you tell yourself no to something you always given yourself in the past? I reached out of my rabbit hole, tried pulling myself out with expectations set in stone… It was not what I expected and I fell in deeper. I am almost too deep that there is no return. What happens if I can’t make it out again… will someone save me? Is that why I keep falling… I am waiting to be saved, by my crutch, my new crutch.

I heard that when a child has so much tyranny shoved down their throat, they never develop into an individual. They develop as always a part of something—someone else. I was so angry when I heard this. I wanted to hug myself and cry and scream. My sister said that crying never solves anything. I have seen it cure people. But she is right, it will never cure me. It is only a constant reminder of what I am missing and still searching for… perhaps this is that root that I cannot locate. Maybe I was looking in the wrong place. It’s not fair to place blame. You need to move forward and think about now. I hear myself saying that I don’t blame anyone, but in my heart, I can hear the blame game. I can hear myself getting angry at myself for being me. I hear myself cursing the day I was born. Repeating the same verbal abuse I grew accustomed to…

Words are so powerful. Most comments are made with an ounce of truth. It is not common to form words into a sentence you didn’t piece together one time or another. You thought about it, consciously or subconsciously. Whether it was your intent to ever vocalize it or not is the part where people aren’t thinking. “I didn’t think before I spoke”… You thought, that is how words are formed, thinking. You just didn’t think about the cause and the effect. Some effects are not instantaneous… Some slowly eat away at you until you are left with nothing. Inception, the movie—see it, and you will see my meaning. An idea planted, but unlike the movie, I know who planted my ideas. I can’t unplant them because I cannot find their root. I am so lost in my own mind looking for the root. I need to unplant the root. Unplant the idea… Unplant the... I can’t find it… it doesn’t want to be found.

A virus for my soul?

So smart… It makes me think I am strong and smart and beautiful. I am scared, I am witty and mean. I selectively look in the mirror and I see the traits I desire. I see the star shape. I am walking past a huge reflective window and in my peripheral vision, I see it. What was that! Is that me! It can’t be me, I don’t look like that. I don’t talk like this. I am not her! What is this trick? Stop it now. Stop looking at me! I break the window. It’s okay now, there is no square there. Just Jen as a star. Always as a bright shining star. Reality finally hits me like a ton of bricks. I am not a star. I am not kind and beautiful. It hurts to break down the mirrors in my mind. It hurts—make it stop. Every day, a new one cracks and I see a little bit more of what you are seeing. Life makes sense. They are not jealous of me. They don’t even like me. The honest ones, they were always jerks and assholes. Maybe they were my only true friends. I am in a dark room and there is one huge mirror, staring at me from across the room. Star Jen is gone. I see this thing, this Frankenstein creation staring at me. Its eyes move when I move mine. Its nose crinkles up when I crinkle mine. Its hands reaches up to touch the mirror at the same exact spot my hand touches. This is really me. This is really what I look like. This is really what I sound like. I hate this person. I can’t stand this person. How did this happen? The past is foggy. One memory at a time, I see the binging. I see the emotional coping mechanisms. I see the cruelty. Who created you? Why are you here? All I can do now is accept and change.

If I don’t change it… I might as well load the gun and shoot. End it quickly rather than endure the agony. I tell people if I get cancer, I want pancreatic cancer. It kills you almost as fast as you can get diagnosed. I don’t want to struggle for years. I want the decision set in stone and followed through… I have a type of cause and effect created soul cancer. It won’t kill me today and I will probably live tomorrow. But there will not be a whole lot of tomorrows. Fewer and fewer with each breathe. I hope that the lesson in the life is the journey back from this. I hope that I reach my goal and I die a star. I can’t die a square. I won’t die a square. I will not be a square…