Monday, June 6, 2011

Moving.

My need to set up and feel at home in this room is a bit silly, as I will only be here for two months. 
I keep going through old crap to decide what I would really be upset to leave behind. 

As is, I am sleeping on someone else's bed.  However, I've been fairly content these days, if a little lonely, which, quite frankly, I feel is deserved. 
A prospect that may turn out to be nothing still seems much preferred to a sure fire thing that was making me unhappy.  I tried being what I deem "normal" and I didn't like it.  It didn't fit.  I need to be in something that is normal for me, rather than the society which has shunned so much of what I am.

I started reading old messages about how I have to stay here for so much longer and how I 'can't possibly' pick up and move, no matter how much I'd like to.  That all seems silly now.  I've been consistently unhappy and feeling out of place for a very long time.  It was less so in MA.  I think that's why, though my time at Montserrat ended rather poorly, I miss it so much.  If it's NY causing this disjointed feeling, it is better to just move. 

Ever since I got past the idea of uncertainty and the thought of possibly taking a risk for once in my life, I've felt better.  There is a sense of relief where once there was fear.  A sense of hope seems new to me. 

I don't really expect everything to work out perfectly.  There have been some people who feel the need to warn me, as though I haven't thought of every possible worst case scenario already.  I am a negative person by habit at this point.  There is absolutely no viable reason to explain how stupid I'm being or how I'm going to fail one way or another.  These are people who clearly do not understand how my life has gone thus far.

I already lost everything once.  I lost it and pretended that it didn't matter.  I lost it and tried to replace it with something everyone else deemed more meaningful.  I've still felt empty.  It just does not make sense to continue living my life for everyone else.  It isn't your life.  It's MY life and I will live with any "consequences". 

What?  I might wind up homeless?  I've been there.
I may not be able to find a job, and go days without food?  I've done that.
I may not be able to follow my dream, and may instead be forced into something I don't care about?  ...Really?  If one more person even says this to me, I may actually snap and kill whoever says it.  What do you think put me back in Albany to begin with?  Does anyone really think I wanted to live the life I'm in?  Somehow, "friends" notice that I am unhappy and just chalk it up my being an angry person.  Believe it or not, I can be quite serene. 

I'm ready for a change.  Even a bad choice.  Anything.  A bad choice is still a CHOICE and that is something I have not had in a very long time.  Even if my arm falls apart.  Even if I wind up in so much pain that I pray for death.  I don't care.  It will be worth it, because at least then, I can say I tried.  At least then, I will be able to say that I did not die after having just given in forever and giving up everything I am. 

I would rather live one more day as my true self, than 80 more years as this strange canvas upon which someone else has already painted. 

The last time I took off my mask for a bit, I found that very few people preferred my real face. 
I have been told over and over again that I always look unhappy when I am not, and then only one or two people notice when I am actually upset.  My mask just does not line up with what I'm feeling most of the time.  It's as simple as that... and I'm tired of it.