It’s a choice? What? Choice like hmm do I want vanilla or chocolate ice cream? Choice like I choose not to drugs? So, I am choosing to be miserable? I choose to be my own worst enemy. I choose every thought in my head. I choose to be depressed, to cry, to be angry. I choose my emotions. I choose to tell yell at myself all day long for not being perfect. Oh yes, I CHOOSE all of this.
I cannot quite wrap my brain around this concept.
God no I do not want to be like this. Absolutely not. I am not going to be 30 and thinking like this still. I wouldn’t want anyone close to me to even read a sentence of anything in this journal. I try so hard to make it seem like everything is ok. I think I do a damn good job of it too. B even said in November that she never knows when something is wrong with me unless I tell her.
I know though. I know this semester it has become slightly difficult to play happy all this time. And I don’t want to be one of those people. The one’s who think their life sucks and hate their jobs. The ones who never want to go out and have fun. The ones who are morbidly depressed. The ones who become alcoholics and have kids and have dysfunctional families. I don’t think like this on purpose. I don’t want to be those people. I want to be me…
I’m the captain of the team. The leader in a small group. Adventurous and spontaneous. Outgoing. Laughing all the time–even at the wrong time. I’m telling myself I am capable of anything I put my mind too. I am seeking opportunities. I am creative. I am a role model…
I don’t want to continue living like this. I don’t know how to accept myself, mistakes and all, for who I am.
But I am going to try. Today. Tomorrow. I am going to try really hard. Also, I am not going to purge through next Wednesday. If I can get through finals and the rest of the week without purging, I should ALWAYS be able to. Ok so it’s a bet with myself. I am only letting myself down if I don’t win the bet. But myself is my worst enemy.