celestias_needs_to_rant celestias shadow This has got to stop. I criticize myself way too much. I am beating myself up over nothing. I can't think anything positive about myself. If I take a quick look in a mirror and think, maybe I look kinda pretty today, the next thought in my mind is "No, Natalie! What the fuck is wrong with you? You aren't pretty and you never will be, and you need to fucking accept that and move on!" And then I'm such a hyprocrite. I pretend not to be jealous of my friends that have boyfriends. Honestly, I really DON'T want a boyfriend, but I want someone to like me. Not that this is unique- everyone in the entire goddamn world wants to be loved. I'm just at a disadvantage because I'm only 15. And I'm picky. I can't afford to have such high standards. I really can't. I'd be lucky enough to get just one guy to like me. And even that isn't likely. But there are only a few guys I know that I could see myself wanting to go out with. Or do other stuff. There's only ONE guy I could see myself wanting to have sex with. And, well, *sigh* THAT'S not likely. Anyways, that's not the point. I get so protective of people. I want to be friends with everyone, and I get all twisted inside when I feel like my friends are becoming better friends with other people. I'm so protective and jealous. Most of my friends don't notice because I do a pretty good job of hiding it from them. I don't want to make life more difficult for them. God knows they don't need to hear me whine. They have their own problems. I hate talking about myself. I feel so self-centered whenever I do it, so I try to change the subject as fast as possible. I'd rather hear about them. I'd rather help them. I don't want them to worry about me, it makes me feel guilty. I feel bad when they try to make me feel better- they have so many more important things to worry about. I feel like such a self-absorbed bitch. I hate how I can feel sorry for myself. I should NEVER, EVER feel sorry for myself. I'm lucky enough to grow up in a middle-class suburb with a nice family, amazing friends, and parents that love me. I'm so privileged and spoiled compared to the rest of the world. True, I don't have EVERYTHING, but that's ok. Nobody really does. Middle-class is fine for now. So many people in other countries have so many more problems. How could I ever pity myself, even when I'm really depressed? It's such an immature thing to do. Sometimes I'm so tired of being so mature. People that met me last year mistook me for seventeen. That's a HUGE four-year difference. On the one hand, I like being mature. I like being aware and conscious of what's going on around me on a fuller level than most of the assholes at my school. On the other hand, it makes for a lot more conflicted feelings when I'm angry or sad or depressed. Which really sucks. I've been spacing out so much lately. It's not like last year, where I had a few days of mild depression and then about 2 weeks where I didn't want to leave my house. No, if that was a finger being chopped off, this is a thousand paper cuts. It's a dull, nagging feeling of inadequacy. I can't get rid of it no matter what I do. No ups and downs like last year, just solidified apathy. I'll be talking to someone, and all of a sudden something they say will trigger me, and I'll just start staring into space, thinking about how much I dislike myself, until they say my name with enough irritation that I snap out of it. And let's not get me started on my writing. It's never been good enough for me. This is a byproduct of being a control-freak perfectionist, but I can't listen to anyone that tells me it's good. All I think is, what do they know? It's total crap and they're just saying this to make me feel better. Then I don't trust people to judge my writing. It will never be good enough for me. I don't think I'm good enough, but it's not something I can stop. I will always write, for the rest of my life, even if it amounts to absolutely nothing. It's in my blood, and I love it more than anything else. And I can't stop. I can't ever stop. I'm tired of criticizing myself. It's always been like this on some scale or another. I've always been a total perfectionist. I think this depression, this self-deprecation, this self-hatred is something I'll grow out of soon. For the most part. I'm not sure I'll ever learn to really like myself. I'll certainly never be good enough for myself. Which makes me think I'll never be good enough for anyone else either. Thank you. I don't expect anyone to read this, and I CERTAINLY don't expect anyone to comment, but these thoughts have been swirling around in my head for about five months now, and I didn't want to burden any of my friends with it. It's my problem, not theirs. I shouldn't get them involved in my pathetic teenage-angst shit. I hate how typical I am. This is ALL so FUCKING typical! Why do I have to be like this? God! How can I think I'm special? Fuck this.... You see? This is what it's like inside my head all the time. The worst is the torture of knowing that I'm not original. Everyone goes through this. And I hate that. I don't want to be average- god, I don't want to be average. Thank you for listening, blather. I really needed to get this out. Thank you for sitting there in your blurple glory and letting me pour my teenage anger on to your pages. I'm sorry for taking up so much space. Please forgive me. 031110 ... blah-ze ranting is the best way of getting it all out into the open where you can dissect it, figure it out, and then despair at the stillborn ugliness of it all. when i get like that, i go out and hit my punching bag until i can't think straight. sometimes i remember to put on gloves. other times i strip the skin from my hands. i try not to look at mirrors. i broke one at school one day and shredded my fist. superficial bastards stared at me. my little thought on life is that you are precious to yourself-when you get all screwed up and uncaring don't do it around someone you normally care about, they don't care, and when you force themselves to care it doesn't work. ditto for you. and relationship stuff is overrated. that is just my opinion. the closest thing to me is my dog. i talk to my dog. he listens better than anyone i know. he always answers just the way i want. dogs are good for that. talking about yourself is neccessary. for one, martyrs end up dead-don't throw your own concerns to the wind, if everyone else is being a self-centred pirc (they are, trust me that it won't be obvious, but noone cares when they don't have to, even if it is some screwed up self compulsion). i do that. it doesn't help. i also write alot, about myself, about nothing, and everything i present to others never seems to work out. but that's just the way things are, and if you stare at something long enough you can always pick holes in it. doing it to your own writing is easier, you know you strengths and faults better than anyone else. most of all, don't do anything stupid. think things through, but don't think too much or everything dissolves away before you act. and i would not have commented, except for the thing where you said you didn't expect anyone to. for me, that's like forcing a compliment by saying 'i know its not very good and all'. that ain't a bad thing, you just thought you needed a reply so you didn't think you were screaming into the night. if i'm wrong, tell me. i am seventeen. i get mistaken for twenty or over, when i decide to act like it. don't try to force maturity, or hide it, just let it flow. 031110 ... pipedream i'll be twenty in 19 days, and *nobody* has ever called me mature. i can actually turn it on and off. i am the most sensible, mature little woman on the planet when i have to be- like when my parents are out of town, or someone's sick, or needs a shoulder. how-ever. being mature is a necessary thing; if nothing else for yourself, because in the end when you turn around and go 'okay me, now what?' you don't want to be answered with 'i dunno!lets go get icecream!hee hee hee!' now that i am old and wise, i shall impart some nuggets of hoary wisdom, and hope they make sense. this is all true and things i have learnt with experience. there will always be ugly days when you DO look at yourself and think gawd, you look like roadkill. you don't. there will always be someone who will watch you pass and think 'hey, pretty girl'. always, i promise. boyfriends are nice to have. i've never had a proper one myself, but someone who likes you *is* a nice thing. its a cosy, happy place to be in, when someone will smile across a crowded cafeteria and its for you, humor you when you're cranky and get you food when you're starving and broke. it's great. but not the end of the world. you have other people who do that for you anyway; the only difference is that they don't make your pulse race. that's all right; someone will. and right now you don't know who all have secret crushes on you, who notices your earrings every day and thinks just to himself 'wow' when you pass by one day looking especially pretty. you don't, but that doesn't mean they don't exist. and high standards...*sigh* sometimes i wish i weren't me so i would have less problems in my life; i've got issues to deal with that noone else does somehow; i've got philosophy and ethics goin' on and gawd knows what-not...why couldn't i just be a hedonist villager and be done with it?! keep your standards where they are...someone with the same will come by, and he will be eminently worth the wait.don't waste your time on the small fry; you deserve better. yes, its going to feel like a bloody long wait but t'will be worth it. being protective of your friends is NOT a bad thing. it only shows you care; and you might have to work on the jealousy thing because a stifling, clingy person is annoying, not a friend. be careful of the protective-jealous thing: always remember you can lead a horse to water but you can't make it drink. some things your friends will have to figure out on their own, even if you're screaming your ass off for them to just step back. i have been here, and the hardest thing is to just watch. tell them what you think, and then just step back. be there, but not all over otherwise they'll hit the road. this is life; living your own is enough of a problem. can't live someone else's for them, much as you want to shield them from hurt. talking about yourself is not something to be guilty about. i've never heard you whinge about yourself, or your life, or your bad hair day ever. doing it once in a while is a natural thing; there is NOTHING to feel guilty or 'self-involved-bitch' about, hear? 'tis ultimately better to let it our than to swirl it about in your head allllll the tiiiimmeee and consequently turn into a paranoid weirdo who thinks too much about all the wrong things. it does not promote healthy self-esteem to be extremely concentrated. that's why we have friends, and writing: to let it out. personally, if one's a writer, then that's the most self-involved thing you can do- presume people actually want to hear what you have to say. and yet, they do, so we must be doing SOMETHING right- and we are. spacing out is just another way of trying to connect with yourself. time alone is essential to keeping in touch with the real you, and i find spacing out to be the best way to just tune out the rubbish around me and just kind of have a peaceful moment. when you're true to yourself, you can be true to other people. there is not a day when i haven't read something i've written and thought to myself 'you pretentious little bug-head, what *is* this?' i like very few pieces i've written, and the ones i've gone 'ick, that's a putrid one' have won poetry competitions and the Commonwealth essay competition. go figure. you have no right to be picky; we are only mediums for a higher force. write, and keep at it. this is all part of growing up...i know it sounds corny and all, but i know every word of what you've just written like it came out of *my* head, and while i won't say it's gonna be all hunky-dory real soon, i *will* say that it will pass, and you'll find other things to fret about *smiles* jokes apart- being a teenager is a private crucible and we will hopefully emerge from it strenghtened and radiant. i am almost twenty, and i know i am a vastly different person from my fifteen year old self. ranting is good. its healthy. and as for being average- love, you will never, *ever* be average. trust me on that one. while we may feel typical and stereotyped in many things we do, we unknowingly are doing cliches in our own way, which turns them into originality, or difference. its called style, and you've got it. *hug* 031111 ... smurfus rex all the things you've ranted about are your own life lessons. you may not understand the point or quite figure out the answer, but that's usually because it's not time yet. as life goes on, like it always does, a *ping* will go off in your head, usually when you're not thinking of the problem at hand, and you'll just "get" it. as long as you are looking out of your own eyes, realize that you are the most important person in your universe. look out for number 1 (you), and don't feel bad for sparing a few glances for the people who are important to you. I spent my last two years of high school and five years in college thinking that I didn't deserve the gifts of talent, writing, family, friends, and all the rest because of this or that reason. when I started graduate school, it *pinged* for me: I DID deserve the gifts I had because they allowed me to do grander and better things for myself and for my important people. Your *ping* will come...and bravo for laying it all out. that took no small amount of courage, believe it or not. ;) 031111 what's it to you? who go blather from