clrmehppygrl's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Emptiness I've come to the conclusion that I really don't know who I am anymore. I listen so closely to other people's expectations for me, and for my life and try to fit myself into every mold at once. Even jello can't fit into every mold at the same time. There has to be one. One, period. My mother wants me to be just like her. She wants me around. She wants me to live my life just like she lived hers. I am not my own person in her eyes. I am her. I came from her. That's all that matters. She will never, willfully, let me be the woman I want to be. Even though, right now, I don't know who that is, I'd like to figure it out. I think my husband has the truest intentions out of the lot of people in my life. He wants me to be myself. He pushes me to make decisions that would, in the end, most likely, be positive for me, for us, but these are things I'm not ready for. But right now, he's pushing me against a wall. He's pushing too fast, and too rough. I'm not sure what Jupiter wants from me. Something is there, but I don't know how to ask, and I'm not sure she would know how to answer. But I am going to keep on because I want her in my life. I want her to be around. I am not going to give up unless she comes to me, asking it of me. Our friends in Orlando want us to move up there so badly that it comes up in every conversation. They want me to just walk away from everything, drop everything, and make the leap up there with no money... no backup. I can't do that. In all of this, what do I want? Do I really want to move. Do I want to be far away from my family? This all goes back to the empty canvas scenario. I have yet to paint anything myself but my entire canvas is covered in other people's pigments. I have my life, my health, my family. I have love and shelter. I have a job and a car and a gym membership. I could never be more empty. It's so rare that I feel pure, unadulterated, joy. General contentment, yes, but joy, it's been abducted, bound and gagged and thrown down a deep deep hole. The joy touches me so often, letting me taste its sweetness, then falls away again. I find it, sometimes, when I'm swimming, in the silent water, where no one else can reach me. Sometimes in the car, with the windows down, with the air rushing in, through my hair and over my skin, joy finds me there to whisper hello... and goodbye. And there is joy in my sleeping child, when he snuggles up to me in the middle of the night because I bring him comfort. I am someone's safety. I don't even care about how I look anymore. All the work I put into the gym is gone. I've seen pictures and it's not attractive. I just don't care anymore. I can bring myself to care either. I don't even think I've looked in the mirror in weeks. I hope I figure out who I am eventually. This empty whole isn't really working for me anymore. 2:10 pm - 2005-05-24 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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