clrmehppygrl's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Growing Invisible I remember when I was small how much I loved to draw, and paint, and create things. I remember seeing myself as an adult with the stereotypical big fluffy artist's smock, with the floppy blue beret and pallet in my left hand. Whenever a teacher asked what we wanted to be when we grew up, I would always say that I wanted to be an artist... either that, or an astronaut But somewhere along the line, some adult told me that artists don't make any money. I remember being told that there was no way that I could be an artist when I grew up, because I wouldn't be able to survive on it. Then, in my teens, when I was coming into my poetry and getting fairly decent at it, I thought I might be a writer. I was approached by a publisher when I was only 13 and had a collection of 5 of my poems published. I was published again in some independant 'zine at the age of 15. From the age of 15 to 16, I was on the school newspaper, and at 17, I was on my school's Literary Magazine (poetry and prose) as well as the performance class that went along with it. And again, someone instilled into me that writing will get you no where. Being a writer is nothing but a pipe dream that will get me no where in life. I needed a good solid job. So, I focused on that. I got accepted to Florida State University and was going to be something solid... I was going to be in accounting. But I was told I couldn't go. I was told I had to get a job. So I did. And I was also told that starting community college and a new job at the same time wouldn't be a good idea. The job won. And here I am, 7 years later, with no dream, no education, and a job that doesn't pay as much as a job post-college would. My whole life I've been told things that I should and shouldn't do. I've been taken away from my dreams and now they don't come to me anymore. This is sort of where my break-down stemmed from this weekend. The fact that I have no place in this house right now. My son has the living room with all of his toys, my husband the bedroom with all of his cameras, and film and movies. My parents pretty much dominate the rest. And I have no where to go. I feel like the people around me are slowly erasing me. I no longer have anything on the inside due to what I've been told will and won't work since I was little. Now my outside is being threatened. Now I'm being shown that there is no place for me. I'm being shown that I'm not needed. I'm not worth my space. There is an honest fear inside of me that, eventually, I'm going to disappear. I'm just going to become invisible one day and no one is going to notice. Because over time I have been. I'm barely even here. 12:24 am - 2005-04-27 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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