Friday, February 03, 2006

My entire life I've been hyper-conscious of when I do wrong things. From my parents I learned that how I thought was wrong, how I did a lot of things was wrong and in my manic pursuit of trying to be a good child, I learned to subjugate my intuition and sense of self to the rules of others.

That pressure came from everywhere, family, my peers, my community, the world.
I learned to keep my strangeness to myself. I learned that I had to keep my wrongness to myself and at least pretend to be doing things "right".

If it had been a few things I believe I would've been fine. But from an early age it was everything. How I cleaned, what I read, the music I listened to, how I learned.

Later in life it became other things. The clothes I wore, my hair, my appearance in general. Having (and engaging in) homosexual behaviour, wanting to be a writer, speaking up about the things I saw as wrong in my community. So many turns I was given the often blatant signal that I was wrong.

What amazes me is the extent to which my sense of self has remained intact. Probably the one thing I have never given up or given away is my sense of who I am. I know who I am. Sometimes I battle with who I am but, I have never let go of the core of my being.

What I have let go of is the knowledge that I am in fact a good decent person regardless of my credit, my aspirations, my sexual tastes, what I do or don't do with my appearance, etc. What I've let go of is the absolute truth that I do know what's right for me.

If you've read me regularly you probably know I struggle with the idea that I am doing something wrong. That at some point I missed some crucial bit of knowledge or experience and thus my life is fucked up. I have been killing myself over every misstep, mistake, minor thing.
I spend inordinate amounts of time holding myself under a microscope and asking, "what the fuck do you think you're doing?" I have let every nay saying, negative thing I've ever heard linger and steep in my heart until I just couldn't see myself.

Last night as I was waiting for the bus in the cold trying to read and let the hum of criminal activity around me sift through my consciousness I had a moment. The inner voice I'll call my own was screaming.

"GODDAMN IT YOU FUCKING WIMPY BITCH! SHUT THE FUCK UP AND GET THE FUCK OVER IT!"

Some people cry their way through pain, others do other things. I as you may have noticed get pissed off. As I stood there shuddering in the wind, shoulders hunched up around my ears my hands involuntarily balled into fists. If I had been standing in front of myself at that moment I would have punched myself in the mouth.

I would have spit in my face.

My anger is not directed at who I really am. My anger is directed at the person I've been trying to be.

My anger is directed at watching myself cling to this stupid fucking idea that I am SO wrong and SO terrible that, this is why I'm struggling and hurting.

That is a lie.

I am struggling and hurting because the whole reason I am hurting so much is because I haven't been honest with myself or true to who I am.

Somewhere along the way in the last few years I lost the woman who would run through fire, eat glass, spit and scratch and claw. The woman who would not and never did put up with shit.

I am not going to do this to myself anymore.

I am not going to suffer and worry and feel like shit because of some nebulous idea that I am not living up to some mysterious standard I set for myself.

I am who I am.

Don't like me?

I don't give a fuck.

Think I'm strange/wrong/immoral/ugly/mean/bitchy/faggy/whatever?

Fuck you.

Fuck me.

Fuck what I heard.

Sound harsh?

It is.

I can almost hear Pete jumping up and down and yelling,

"THAT'S MY BITCH!"

I'm done fucking around with myself. Sometimes I need tough love and nobody can give it to me like I can give it to myself.

I can acknowledge and admit that I have been unkind and uncharitable with myself. That I am guilty of not being true to myself.

OH SHIT.
I KNOW I'M YELLING. BUT WE GOT THE APARTMENT WE MOVE IN ON SATURDAY. GOODBYE CRACKHEADS. GOODBYE SHITTY BUS ROUTE.

Now that is settled. I have some planning to do. I will return to myself. I am going to be honest with myself.

And I am NOT TAKING ANY MORE SHIT.

Not from myself and not from any body else.

Homo out.

I have to pee now I got so excited.
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1 comment:

Your Loving Lyricist, Anthony said...

Way to go. Life is too short. Fuck squares who can't/won't/refuse to wrap their tiny little minds around a strong and creative soul that has no interest in a life of conformity. You be you.

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