Frame The Story, but Do Not Define The Book.

2008 . . . oh what a year she's growing to be. I know that it's March and that I haven't updated anything around here in a while. Hell who's really reading this anyway?. I remember when I made this blog. It was a means for private and secret expression. Nobody was allowed to know who I was - thus I chose the name of Boy Disappearing. I created it during a time in my life when I felt the need to be depressed even though I was happy.

The darkness fascinates me. It protects me from vulnerability and the scorn of being made a fool. To truly feel is something that I steer away from at times. To tell the truth is something that I am learning to become more in touch with but to remain very weary of. And love is something that I have always held inside and finally have somebody to express to. But sometimes I feel imperfect and imperfection scares me.

Daily I am called to be perfect and responsible in all that I do. Truth in conflict is important for sake of holding true to ones self. Yet I often feel like an asshole when I don't have an answer. And sometimes I feel as though I am not being heard. My fears are not validated, and my insecurities are amplified by my thoughts. Yes, 2008 has been a lesson in loss and gain. I remember on the 31'st of December when I realized that this year would be a year of change and growth. Unlike 2005-07's "Year of Miracles" to which the pains of the past somehow made their way out of the door.

Each year will teach me something new about myself. And this year I am growing up. My sheltered existence is in peril, and that is OK. I am learning about finance, love, the self and the soul. I am going through the gambit and I accept that challenge for I know that I will come out as a warrior, and not the defense.

Being fired from my job at STA Travel taught me a great lesson in that I am not to allow anybody to step over me. My boyfriend has begged me to never fight against the enemy but to rise above the enemy through love and respect. This lesson is especially hard for me because I have never defended myself against the aggressor. I am used to being a doormat, and it hurts to be walked on. I try to know everything before it's even expressed by another so to always be on their page. I try to live in a 50/50 household where nobody feels over loaded with work. But I fall short of perfection and it scares me when I see myself for that. It scares me that I am 23 and still "lost" in my own insecurity.

The anger that I've expressed in the past is no longer with me. Now I see clearer, but not the BIG picture. I find it hard to see that picture. I tend to focus on small details which only frame the story but do not define the book. I'm stressed out beyond natural means -- like a bomb shelter in middle earth. I try to relax but something happens in my mind when I think that I am not living up to the expectations of others. And that is why I took a medal from my necklace last night and whipped my wrists with it. Because I do not know how to keep everything safe and in control.

I hate it when the shit hits the fan. Because when the shit hits the fan - people runaway and I don't want to be alone. All that I want is to be respected and seen as an individual with a great flare for fun and a deep concern for the human condition. Sometimes I just feel like "The Fool" when I'm out and about. Some people find me to be quite odd, while others find me to be the life of the party. Some would call me smart and intellectual while others would call me ignorant, daft and irresponsible. But the question is - how do I define myself?. Why wont I stand up anymore ?. Why can't I just act - why is it so hard to be a warrior for peace in a radical world. Why is it so hard to be myself around those that I love the most. Why do I feel judged and held constantly accountable for my thoughts and words - why can't free thought and jibber jabbre be legal in the court room?.

My real confession here is that I enjoy the darkness for it keeps me in touch with my defense mechanisms. True darkness is my worst fear of all. Being alone, unloved and betrayed; judged and made fun of. That is the darkness that I listen to from the other room. I listen because I need to make sure I know the plan before it effects me, so that I can avoid the pain of losing true happiness. And all that I ask for is for somebody to simply understand this, and not judge me for this, and to support me through the process of getting out of this mind frame.