Yeah, if you've been with me long enough, you can most likely tell that I can never live up to my promises. I've always done this, maybe it's the sudden motivation and then the instant lack of interest the next moment.
Not really just with my artwork, no, it branches further. To my schoolwork. Let's face it, I'm lazy and a procrastinator. I hate it plenty. But, I really need to start picking myself up, in the right direction and in the right way for that matter. For me, it's always all or nothing. It will either break me in two ways, overworked or not working at all. It's difficult to find those grey areas where I can balance a work life with a personal life, but I think I'm getting better at it. I have things to confess, and clear up, and reflect on.
Stress. Stress and lies is what it is right now. Sure, I have a lovely boyfriend and awesome friends, I love them, they help to make me who I am and how my life will go. But my grades are in the dirty kitchen sink.
It's funny, y'know, last year I gave up completely (still passed, somehow...), but it ain't gonna fly this year and especially not later on in my life. I gave up because everything went in the wrong direction. I gave up on grades, my friends had all abandoned me (or so I felt, I had major misunderstanding and difficulties), and I wanted to give up on life completely. I thought I was stuck, I felt so deep in the hole that I thought it was impossible to climb out, even with help. To make matters worse, I was a weak and vulnerable wreck. Literally. My hair was always dirty, didn't bother to wash it anymore. Didn't bother wearing any makeup, didn't think it would hide the scars or my blemishes and it wasn't worth it since no one would notice anyways. I wore thick rags for clothing, big sweatshirts and baggy jeans to hide in. My hair was parted to the side to cover my eye, hoping I wouldn't show anything. I became quiet, and distant, and I lied more often and told bigger and bigger fibs, and for what reason? I was either hiding something or trying to start something. Who knows what was wrong with me.
The fact of the matter being, Dante (some kid I used to be "close" with, I don't wanna give too much about him...god I hate him...), he abandoned me. He never told me why, so for the longest time I pondered if it had been his fault or my own, maybe he just wanted to be with his girlfriend without me around, or possibly he was sick of my depression issues and constant lying, or maybe he just got bored with me, maybe I got too attached, I don't know. But, it isn't as important to me now, I still wonder, but I know an answer will never come clear now that I will never look into his soulless eyes once more. It left me terribly depressed. The wounds may have healed but the scars will forever stay. But, he didn't care at all. And he didn't need to. He wasn't meant to be an important person in my life, no matter how deep an impression he left. But the fact of the matter was, I was suffering. A scared, fragile girl that couldn't take care of herself and just wanted to hide away from the world.
Maybe it showed too much, the blood from my scars leaked into my sleeves. Because, as I would never expected, I was approached. At the time, I didn't care WHO it was, I was just so happy to know SOMEONE cared enough to talk to me. That someone turned out to be a boy, Spencer, whom I went to school with for quite a while. He grew up in the shadows, so quiet, so vacant and expressionless. That boy wasn't right in the head. But did I care? No, especially when he asked me to be his girlfriend. He was pretty repulsive, in his actions in particular. H would always say exactly what was on his mind, and half the time, it was quite immature and stupid. He would say things quite loudly in public, and to prevent from humiliating myself, I hung around closer to home with him. Worst decision of my life.
He had always been persistent in getting me to do things that he wanted. He never had any friends and growing up with only his mother, he didn't quite know how to lead a relationship other than it being sex based (obviously picked up from the internet). Now, I don't want to say the details of what he did to me in the dark of my basement, pinned to the floor by my wrists, alone in the house (kinda see where this is going...sorry I had to say it), where no one could hear me scream, I was still more afraid of being alone. This carried on for a few more weeks until I thought I would mentally break from being his toy. Something snapped inside me. I realized something over the course of just from this summer to this day, that I am a person. After I kicked him out and broke the relationship, something must have internally changed inside me. I cut my hair, cleaned it, worse makeup and cleaned my scars, drastically updated my wardrobe and my outlook on life. Sure, I still wasn't perfect. I was still lazy, kind of a liar, still had bipolar moments...but I had made improvements.
Now, they didn't cause my pain, even if they had a lot to do with it. It was me who carried it for so long. But...recently, it led to something. Something new, and special. My boyfriend, Preston. He had joined Deviant art and looked for depressed people to try and help them, comfort them, he called himself a Doctor (yeah, in homage to Doctor Who). I was just lost in the sea of his patients. It wasn't until later that he saw things in me, and I saw things in him. It wasn't like before, with Spencer I felt I didn't have much of a choice. But this time, I do have a choice, and my choice rests with him. Although sometimes I see it as fate, he sees it as one big beautiful accident. Who knows, maybe it was, but either way, I'm glad it happened.
Even just before I got together with him, I was going through these major self improvements. My friends all came back to me, I was happier, and I'm still struggling but getting to the point of caring more about my academic performances. I couldn't wait for someone to fix me, I had to do it myself. But, Preston was able to give me that nudge of hope I so needed. I owe it to him.
Now, I sometimes lay around and think "I am happy to be alive, resting against soft grass and breathing sweet air". I had to love myself as much as I love people and they would love me back. I was so right.
But, if I could take that pain back, that time I spent with those people who dragged me down further, I wouldn't. It came together to create unimaginable beauty and I learned so much from it all. I'm still learning, over the course of today I learned I need to sort my schedule better. Like I said, my goals were set too high, and then I had no goals at all. I just want to pass, I just want to move on with my life instead of being stuck in one place.
I have the capability. I need to control my lies, they can get out of hand sometimes. And I CAN. I need to pick my grades up to an acceptable pace. And I CAN. I need to love myself, and stop looking at such detriments in life and drink in its beauty instead. AND. I. CAN.
I needed to say these things, I wanted to leave them here for me to reflect on much later. To know I make mistakes, and to know I can get out of hand, but I can help myself, and learn from these types of things. Life is starting to look promising.
I am happy.