MUSINGS
Becoming a person
Part of the project of this website is my becoming open. It's something I've talked about a little already. I can't talk about my emotions. It's not something I was ever really taught to do, and a few childhood experiences convinced me it was something I must never do. To talk about what bothers you out loud for others to hear was akin to advertising your own weakness. I didn't dare.
How bad it is for me to cut myself off like that, to hide from the people I supposedly cherish. I think what I've done has inhibited my ability to love others deeply to the point of pretty much rendering myself a schizoid, for the sake of protecting myself from whatever I perceive to be so dangerous about other people.
It's not fair to those I cherish, and it's not fair to me, either. When someone tries to compliment me, or tell me they love me, I can't believe them. It's not that I think they're lying, it's just impossible to accept. It feels like I have some secret evil inside me, unknown even to myself, but I'm sure it's there, and if they knew the truth, they'd hate me as much as I hate myself. But there is no dark secret, not really. It's only that I'm a human being, and being flawed is part of the deal. There's a form of narcissism there, I think. Holding myself and no one else to impossible standards. Whose standards? Who else to compare to? It's just other people here, as far as you know.
So I'm going out of my way to talk about my feelings. It's taken me far too long. The truth is I'm such a tender little bitch. So, so sensitive, all the time. I think sometimes it's a good thing. I like to think it makes me a better writer and a better person. I have a good amount of spite, I found that out when I started driving everyday, but I've never really been capable of hate. When you understand what little control we have over the person we become, it becomes much harder to hate "bad" people. No one is born evil, at least I have no reason to believe so. But I still wouldn't consider myself a good person, or a whole person, anyway. If the opposite of love is apathy, not hate, then my lack of hate might just be a symptom of my lack of self-respect. In any case, I can't attribute a blamelessness to others that I don't attribute to myself. It's not right. Empathy must be extended both ways.
So, in an attempt to give myself the respect I would a good friend, and respect to my friends and family who only want to love me, I'm swinging wide the rusty gates to my soul. More than anything, I just want to give back that deep love offered to me that I can't seem to muster up in return.
UPDATE
Project almost finished. Putting the final touches on it now. It's rough, but it's fun and has charm. Traditional writing project is also underway, as slow as always. This website is over a year old already? Christ, time is flying too fast. Gotta do something about that.