Friday, April 17, 2015

angry girl journal 04.17.2015

i miss my parents, no doubt about that. but i'm also glad nobody shakes me in the middle of my sleep after a long stressful day at work just to beat me up and curse at me because for someone who was paying all the bills i still wasn't a good enough daughter.

growing up i was made fun of for being weird, ugly, fat, poor, stupid, plus i had this awkward attraction to girls and boys that i couldn't talk to my parents about.  they were already working hard to give me an education, i didn't want to bother them. i didn't have any friends whom i could call or text in the middle of whatever they were doing just so i could vent about my petty issues. i had to make imaginary ones.  there was no Facebook or any other form of social media where i could post what i felt.  there were no camera phones for me to take a selfie of how miserable i was to show everyone my crying face.  there was no one out there whom i could reach out to, no one to hear me, see me.  it was just me, my pimples and my fat body.  if i slit my wrists, no one found out.  there was no support group for self-mutilating suicidal bisexual teenagers.

but i could write.  at least, i thought i could. i am used to being alone.  being left alone.  having no one to talk to. i learned how to rely on myself.  i'm not the greatest writer.  i have no body of work to speak of.  but i am able to express myself articulately (most of the time), and surprisingly, keep my sanity.  i could sing, too.  mine is not the greatest of voices.  God gave me a pair of good ears and while i dont like the sound of my speaking voice, i could do wonders when singing.  i think.  those two things i am grateful i have.  they compensated for my lack of companions.  of course, when i do find friends, i tend to cling on to them for dear life and hog all their attention.  i never had friends until late in life. and while they are imperfect human beings, they are perfect to me.  God's presence in my life, i like to say. they fill the void and at the same time i feel like i am doing something relevant in the world apart from the work that i do. i mean, i should be.  otherwise, why would they stay? nobody thought i was worth spending a lifetime with.

i have said before that it has taken a long time and a whole lot of work for me to be this cool.  somehow i still feel like i'm lacking.  i still make mistakes. i still am angry.  but i am still strong.  i'm still weird.  still fat.  still ugly.  still poor. still stupid.  i still am awkwardly attracted to boys and girls and people might still be making fun of me behind my back, if not to my face. i'd probably still be beaten up for not being good enough.