2001-05-21
Sometimes I wonder what the point of all this is. I feel like I do this for the external validation and every time I check my guestbook and no one has told me how great I am, I'm disappointed. And then I decide to try to write more, or funnier, or more about my emotions. Fuck that. It seems this is a struggle that a lot of diarists have. Who am I writing for? Because right now I don't feel like being here. This isn't fun, I don't need to work anything out. It is just a log of my life.
No one here knows who I am, or how I am. This is one iota of my existence. I know that what I write in here doesn't come close to who I am, what I believe or experience. You have no idea about what my reality is.
And who am I then, you ask.
First I am me. I am full of beautiful and ugly things. I am brave and strong and weak and scared and most of all I am tired. In general I am a good person. But being good gets confusing sometimes. I'm full of secrets and lies. Things I tell you, tell myself, tell those in my life. I have a huge fear of disappointing people. I do things constantly that I don't want to because I don't want to let anyone down. I'm bitter. I'm happy. I'm angry and comfortable and sad. I'm full of scars that I look at every once in a while and then put back away. I am wondering through this life wondering what is the best way to clean myself from inside out. I judge people consistently. I judge myself the hardest. I compoare myself to every woman. I am insecure. I loathe myself sometimes.
There are a lot of things I won't write here because then I would have acknowledged them. Like when I have sex sometimes it feels like rape. Like how I feel about my body and myself and my beauty. I don't right about how I wonder if I'm gay or supposed to be a nun. I don't write about how I can't stand my mother sometimes. I don't write about how I let people walk all over me. I don't write the ugly stuff. But I'm trying to get past the garbage and see who I am.
I am a mom. I am a daughter, granddaughter, girlfriend, friend, sister, student.
But most of all, I am.
