For Me? : Acknowledging Problems

My dear friend Elsa has recently discovered a blog, which we have both added to our sidebar jiggers, called "I Wrote This For You." It is a collection of photographs taken mostly of common things with uncommon lighting or perspective, and each photograph is given a statement. Sometimes the statement is clearly connected to the content of the photograph, sometimes it is not. Here is one statement from the blog.

"Sometimes it feels like every song on the radio was written just for you.
Sometimes, they are."

I don't listen to the radio, but I do listen to my iPod on shuffle a lot - and it is nearly the same thing, because there is a lot of music on there that I get from friends and relatives that I am not familiar with.

Music is a strange thing. Sometimes, you can go years listening to a song, thinking nothing of it. And whether you physically skip it or not, your brain skips over it as soon as you recognize the first few notes, because your brain knows what is going to follow, and that there is no point to it, and it sees no point in listening to it. But then later, for some reason, your brain doesn't skip the song, and you listen to it - and it seems that the words must have changed, because all at once, not only is it a song that you can relate to, it's a song that you need.

These songs are magical things.

I have encountered one such song recently. I do not know its name or who sings it. It is known to me only as "Track 03" in the mix "Good Music for EmilyBean." The words that I either didn't notice or didn't understand before are the following:

"Is this the good, the beautiful and true?
Can't see the battle when it's right in front of you
In the mirror, I know a weary heart when I see one"

Obviously, that isn't the entire song, but that's the beginning, the part that probably got my attention, and the part that, according to "I Wrote This For You," was probably written for me.

I have an obsession with being "strong." Not physically, but emotionally/mentally. I don't know how many people are aware of that. However, when I have a problem or problems, I often deny their existence, or their severity, or the need for help in dealing with them - not just to others, but to myself as well. I don't like relying or being dependent on others - that requires making one's self vulnerable, which I consider dangerous. Because of this, I try to deny that I need other people. I try not to let many people know too much about me or how I feel about certain things.

So, because problems, severity of problems, and the solving of problems go ignored in my life... they've gotten bigger. Because I've been denying their existence, I "can't see the battle when it's right in front of me." I don't allow people to help me with my problems as often as I should - I don't even allow people as near to maybe might be best - I'm tired of dealing with everything mostly on my own. But I'm so in denial, I don't "know a weary heart when I see one."

I'm obsessed with weakness and not being weak. I hate to cry, especially when there is a chance I might be seen. It is almost imposssible for me to cry during the day, when there is light and I am more visible. If someone has actually seen me cry, it was probably a big deal - Either I was very, very upset, or I trust them very, very much.

I am not really sure why I hate the idea of weakness so much. Certainly, I don't want to risk being hurt. I don't want to be vulnerable because I don't want to be injured. I don't want to be close because I don't want to be abandoned. But I also wonder if my small size has something to do with it? Do I feel weaker - more at risk and more vulnerable - partially because of my size? Am I trying to prove something, maybe? That I can still be strong emotionally and mentally even if I can't be strong physically?

Or am I just trying to blame a problem I have on something that I can't control, when the problem is something that I can fix and should be fixing? Like I do with many of my problems, as a way to deny their existence, their severity, and their need for a solution?

<3 o.

p.s. : I found the song. It's called 'Perfectly' by Judd and Maggie, I believe.

I Won't Be Sleeping Much Tonight

There are a variety of things to speak of, all very briefly.

Firstly, I was very unimpressed with all of the options our Drama class was presented with to choose from for our semester play--so I wrote one. It's called "Saving Wonderland and How Alice Did It." I'm hopeless, I know. I had Han take it to Mrs. H--he simply told her that a girl in the hallway outside her room asked him to give it to her. She did not mention it during class, but neither did we pick a play.

It was a stupid, stupid thing to do, really. I know that there is no chance on Earth that it will be voted on, even if she does mention it to the class. I don't know why I did that, I will only end up looking stupid. I only hope she doesn't figure out that it was me.

Secondly, I hate school. I hate it more than I thought I would, more than I thought I possibly could. There is no real reason. I am just distressed throughout it, from beginning to end, counting the minutes until the end of each class--literally. I don't know how long I can handle this kind of torment. Really, most of my teachers are very nice, and none of them are mean, and there has not been an abundance of homework--so I don't know what to do. I don't know what the problem is, so I don't know how to go about fixing it.

Thirdly... I don't want to talk about tonight. I don't want to think about it. But because it has made me think so much, I will tell you what part of tonight has caused the thought. It is all you will know about what happened.

I don't know why, but I started screaming. And I just couldn't stop.

And now, I'm miserable. Literally. I'm exhausted, but I don't want to go to bed, because I know it will lead to thoughts of tonight, and I don't want to think about it. I don't know what conclusions I would draw if I did, and I don't want to know.

Lastly, I'm on a new medication, Prozac. I think that's the one with the depressed rock in their commercial... I'm supposedly taking it for headaches, but I believe it's also an anti-depressant, so if it could help at all with my stress/unhappiness, that would be great... of course, I thought that that would happen with the Celexa, and then I had some kind of allergic reaction.

I'm pretty sure this has been the worst first week of senior year that I could have possibly imagined for myself. No, actually, this is worse than I could have imagined. Because anything that I could have imagined, I did imagine, and so I was kind of mentally prepared. I was so not ready for this. Not only was I not prepared, but I don't even know what's wrong... and since I don't know the problem, I don't know how to fix it.

Goodnight, blogging community.

Sweet dreams.

<3>

Nobody Wants To Be Thought Of As Perfect.

It's not a compliment.
-Dad

People, despite desperately wanting to be perfect... don't like perfect people. And people don't like to be considered perfect, either. At least not usually.

People that are considered perfect are annoying. Even though they aren't really perfect, they are better than us, and whether they acknowledge it or not, it's a problem. If they act as though they are better than us, we consider them show-offs or goody-two-shoes. If they don't, we think they are inappreciative or, for some reason, patronizing.

For people who aren't perfect, which is really everybody, it is really a pain when others think that you are perfect. Your own problems are ignored and laughed at because, hey, you don't have any problems! In fact, people that are considered perfect have problems, and they are magnified when people refuse to acknowledge them. If you can think of a time when you needed help with something and recieved it, can you imagine what it would have been like to be laughed at or disregarded instead of getting the help? It's a very painful thing.

So why do so many people seem obsessed with being perfect? I'll admit that I do it, too. But what is so enviable about "perfect"? Some "perfect" people are idolized from afar, but they are always loved best by the people who know that they are not without their flaws. In addition, if you are considered "perfect" by other people, your concerns will be demeaned and devalued by society. Take a look at all those "smart" kids you knew in school. Every time test results came back, what were they doing? They were anxiously awaiting to find out if they were still "smart" or if their efforts weren't good enough to meet standard. And what was going on around them? "What are you worried about? You ALWAYS get an A!" comes from every direction, and not usually in what you would call a reassuring tone.

Just because someone's problems seem illegitimate to you does not mean that you should disregard or mock someone's feelings. (And let's keep in mind... the fear of a low grade is worse for a "smart" kid than many others, because it is a bigger deal for them.)

Fears and concerns are not meant to be mocked or laughed at, then are meant to be solved, comforted, soothed, and reassured. Yes, even the problems of "perfect" people deserve attention, because even if you think they are unfounded... they are still there, and they are still real for that person.

People would do better to keep that in mind when they are dealing with someone they consider to be perfect... as well as when they are wishing that they were. When one is occupied by wishes of perfection, they should think of the "perfect student" and how they were treated... and remember that it's not all it's cracked up to be. (And that the people who act like perfection is such a big deal are inperfect themselves... and how would they know?)

<3 o.