Revitalization's Weblog

For the curious, questioning, and wandering soul

Archive for stress

Wither in denial

I’m frustrated with myself, with this situation, with everything. God damn. What the hell is wrong? Why the hell is this happening to me? I mean, after a certain number of years, after so much self-reflection, after hours upon hours of pondering… It can’t be the world that needs to change. I need to change. I need to change.

I see it in others- I see their lives, it seems so much easier for them. It seems like they get it. Oh sure, I know everyone has their problems, and I know that I may fair better in certain ways, but still. Still, it seems to come easier for some. Are some people just lucky?

I’ll admit it. I want the perfect body, I want the perfect man, I want the perfect job, I want the perfect life. Perfect, not in a utopian sort of way, but perfect for me, perfect in filling my needs, my wants, my desires, my loudest dreams. And I think I try, I think I’m working towards my goals, I put the effort: I work out multiple times a week, I try and be out-going and funny, I strive to excel in education…. It never seems to be enough, there’s always something. I’m starting to realize that to get what I want, to REALLY get all that I want I have to work hard. I mean really HARD. Not the normal amount of effort, it must go beyond…

I want to achieve, I want to succeed, I want everything, I want the world. For me, for me…

It starts with you. You can only initiate, it’s in your capacity. I want to so desperately strive, but it is terrifying. Perhaps a fear of success, perhaps a comfort with failure…. it’s scary. But. I want the change, with every inch of me, I want that change. So it has to start with me- be the change you want to see in the world. Be the change you want for yourself. Be the change to change your life.

I’ll start here and now, I’ll make a plan and exhaust myself in attempting to achieve every last desire that fills my self. First, and foremost, dating: I want to date, I want to love, I want to be in love and know what that feels like. I want to see if love can change a person, I want to see what the world looks like when in love. I want that love, that deep love, but not only that, passion too. Ok, how to achieve it: I think I’ve been waiting for it. And while I realize it will not and will never come to me while I’m sitting inside my house, contemplating and scheming a future full of love, with a perfect man… that’s not the way it happens. It HAS to be harder than that… so I’ve got to put myself out there, be vocal, be out-going, be friendly, be personable, be approachable, be honest, be myself, be real. And TRY, try and strive, approach men and be confident in who you are- a powerful human being who knows what she wants.

I want happiness, I want a future so bright and so rich, I want a beautiful beautiful life full of love, travels, and good food. It’s possible, believe believe, but you have to try. You have to strive for it, and try. Pick yourself up, build yourself up, and BE THE BEST VERSION OF YOURSELF.

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Snatching the Unattainable, Only for You

Fuck this shit. FUCK this. These expectations are too high. You put them there, on the highest shelf. Out of reach. Criticize and criticize, until you’re blue in the face. Fuck this shit. I hate it. I cannot handle it. I’m supposed to be hard and tough, build a hard, plastic shell around myself to protect my fragile innards from the verbal wasteland known as your mouth. Well, I don’t. I don’t have a shell, perhaps I tried to build one, make one…. but it has cracks, deep cracks and go straight to the core. and every time you poke, every time you comment, it sticks that dagger a little deeper, it widens the crack a little more, revealing a swirl of vulnerabilities.

Ok, so I’m not good enough. Is that what you’re getting at? That I’m not worthy of this time and this money, these resources and all that you’ve given me? Is that it? Because I cannot achieve the best, be the best, be the one and only BEST, that I am not worthy. This may have been a bad investment. I may have been a bad investment, because I certainly am not what you want, what you desire in your heart.

You, you want perfection. You want this from me. How cruel and undeserved. You tell me I’m wasting time, I’m wasting money, I am wrong, I only do things wrong wrong wrong. I can hardly take anymore. It is hurting my heart. And I’m afraid that there may be some permanent damage.

Oh sure, you’re blind with a vision. You’re blind with ego. But, you don’t see what you’re doing to me. Breaking me down, with every small comment, telling me oh so very indirectly that I am imperfect and wrong. Never right. I can never be right or good.

Disappointment, that’s all I ever feel. Well, perhaps that’s a bit extreme, but that’s what I feel right now. Disappointment because I cannot attain the unattainable. Because I am not good enough, and you expected more. You set the bar too high. And while I have tried for years and years to reach that bar, standing on the tippiest toes, I always stumbled, I always bumbled in your eyes. You don’t see me, you only see my faults. You only see what could be, what should be. You don’t see what I am, and what I have achieved, what I have managed to accomplished in the endless pursuit of trying to appease you and your thirst for perfection from me.

Oh it’s tiring, oh I am tired. This has been an arduous journey and I feel myself breaking down. I try to shield my fragile beating heart from those words, I try to persevere. But, there comes a time when you get through to me. You cut right into me, break me down and tell me to stand up to take some more.

How am I supposed to be a confident young woman, outgoing and smart? How am I supposed to tackle this world and believe that anything is possible, when, you have undoubtedly shoved straight into my face that hardly anything is possible, because I have achieved almost nothing.

You break me down, but I still come whimpering back, trying to please and appease, trying to gain your approval and praise, trying, desperately trying to snatch the unattainable-only for you. I try, I try, and I keep trying.

Why do we get to be?

Fragments. Fragmented, cut up, broken. It’s what we know. These sharp shards of all that we know sit in our minds, and somehow we cope. I mean I don’t really get it… I don’t get how I can live in this world, and accept that I don’t, and will never understand everything. I don’t get how I can live in this world, and walk the same paths, and do the same things, and see the same people, and not understand everything. Honestly.

We come into this world, a screaming pink ball, so angry that we had to come out of that comfort place, that beautiful warm womb. We come into this world, and are expected to adapt. And grow. And accept. Accept all that we see, and all that is, we must accept it because it is here, and it is real, as real as we know. And because it is here and because we can see it, touch it, feel it, it is real, and that’s all that matters. So we live in this world.

We live with these fragments. Fragments of what life is. Fragments of what “human” means. Fragments of a higher power that is all knowning. Fragments of an eternalness of it all. Fragments of the universe that we somehow, somehow are a part of, without even acknowledging it, we are, we are a part of it. Fundamentally, and essentially. It is unquestioning. Right? Maybe.

I just don’t get it. I mean, I get that there is life, and there is us, because I am here, at least in this moment I think I am, and I think that’s good enough to acknowledge that this is true. Right now is happening, at least we think it is. But, in essence, what does it matter if it truly is or isn’t. Because thought, and agreement that what is, IS, well that makes things real. And so I am sitting here, real. I am real, and you are real, and we are living in this world together, as we imagine it and percieve it, and how we see it makes it how it is, because that is all we know. And so we sit here, together, in this world, seeing, living, breathing, and nothing.

No questions. No demands for answers! NOTHING! I don’t get it! I don’t get how people are just “OK” with this. This reality- people accept it, undeniably. As if this is real, because it is what we know. There is no questioning. None. There is no question about why! There are no questions about us, and the universe, and where we come from- where these personalities, and thoughts, these complex and unique thoughts come from. Sure, from DNA, from genes, from biology, but why? Why do we have capabilities to be? To be freely thinking and moving? Why do we get to be?

Why do we get to be?

I guess that’s the question right there. And, if we get to be, and I think most would agree, at least those who are, that we are, right now, right here, we are. And if we are, and we get to be, and maybe it’s this wonderful gift, maybe it’s a mistake, maybe it just is, then why do we get to die? Why do we have to die? Why do we get to live and get to die- it should be really one or the other. But then again, who I am to say what things “should” be like. Haha, it’s comical really, to think that we can suggest how things “should” be, when we have no control over how things are. We are just thrown into this reality, and are expected to accept it, and to just be “ok” with the fact that we get to live and we get to die.

So why do we get to be? And why do we get to die?

Diaries of a Vagabond

I sit here, listening to some sad music, putting me in the mood, urging me to write pitiful words. Hah. The hairs stand on my arms, my eyes ache. I love the violins, the sad sad violins.

Just BREAK me down! I am starting to crave it—just an earth-shattering blow to my world. Break it into one trillion pieces, break crack rip smash. Oh what I would give to…. To move, to start again and again and again. It gets so boring. One life, one way of  life, I’m tired. Turn it upside down, shake my shoulders. Am I seriously the only one? The only one who is bored, bored of this, of doing this, again and again. Eat, sleep, gym, study, work, play. How utterly dull, such monotony.

I don’t know how to do it, I don’t think I’m big enough to take the step. I don’t think I could do it to myself- change it all, just leave it all behind. Really, if I just picked up and left. Stepped onto a bus, and went. Got onto a plane, and left. Just left. I mean I don’t know if…. Hmm……vagabond

                                 

My shine is wearing off. Like an old penny, covered in age. The glisten in my eye is dimming, the light in my pulsing heart flickers. Maybe reality is setting in, and I am hearing. I am seeing what ‘to be human’ really means. I’m seeing agony, I’m seeing heartbreak……………I’m seeing fear….. helplessness.

 

I can see it in strangers’ eyes. I see how much it hurts.

 

But we get by, because that’s all we know. And so we shuffle along, and keep treading water and we make a little life, surround ourselves with material comforts, and try to forget, plug our ears and close our eyes shut tight, and just block out what we don’t want to hear, what we don’t want to realize is so true.

 

And I see myself… I can see myself on this path, on this specific road, going down the ignorant road. Is it so wrong that I want something different for myself, for me, is it so wrong that I want something great? So just give me an earth-shattering blow and break me down into one trillion pieces so I can wake up and start again, so I can try again………. I just need to try again….let me try again

a random 15

I like the smell of hot milk.

I love sleeping in soft beds.

I think I’m a sincere person.

I like to sit in the front of the bus so I can see the road.

I try to read books that will open my eyes.

I love getting hand-written notes.

I like listening to songs over and over again.

I prefer rainy days.

I think there are people that weave in and out of my life, and I in theirs, where we have never met and may never meet, but somehow we are undeniably connected.

I want an amazing romance.

I like to make eye contact with strangers.

I save random objects and notes I find in a little hidden box.

I write things on money in hopes that they will return to me in years and years.

I look forward to really honest moments.

I sometimes forget to look up at the stars and realize how infinitesimal life is.

 

 

A Social Experiment

I’m starting a social experiment to discover how beautifully interconnected I believe the human race truly is! Please visit my new page: reveal your story.

Send me your life stories, or events and moments you experienced that were life-changing, inspiring, and revolutionized your view on life.

I am sure that I as well and many others will benefit from reading your story, so please send them to revealyourstory@gmail.com

his beautiful face and his beautiful mouth

why the hell not?

I can visualize these things that hold me back, I can see shyness, I can see embarassment, I can see fear, I can see nervousness.

But above all else I can see him. Out of the corner of my eye, I see his beautiful face and his beautiful mouth. I try to catch a quick glimpse, capture a fleeting image.

He’s beautiful, the way he talks, the way he laughs, the way he looks

I think we could be good, great even… and I don’t even know him and I don’t approach him and I watch him leave as my heart follows

I wonder why I can’t have him, why I don’t pursue him, why the hell not?