Undone

How to get to know yourself, 101.

Um. If i knew how to get to know myself, i’d know myself, and then I wouldn’t spend time thinking about it all the time. It seems like every part of my personality screams “You’re just like….[insert sibling’s name here]” and it just makes me tired. I’m tired of people saying “I wish you were more like The Specialist” or “You write just like Wudan” I’m sick of it. I guess most of it is internal stuff. I’m comparing myself to them. I’m not as good at computers. I don’t’ have the kind of memory for that kind of thing (no pun intended) I don’t have much of a memory at all. I can recall billions of useless things though.

I’m not a good artist Like (realises that her oldest brother doesn’t have a nickname, shrugs it off, and continues) The Specialist, or Dax. I dont’ have an affinity for programming like Wudan. I don’t have a sharp tongue Like The Specialist or Wudan. (Though my oldest brother does have quite the knack for deflating ones self esteem.) I’m not witty, or clever. I dance like a spaz, though i suppose everyone in my family does. I’m not good at Math, Spelling or any of the sciences like Wudan or The Specialist (respectively). My collages look like a frat boy threw up on some porn magazines.

I dont know what makes me special I don’t know what makes me lovable, I don’t know what makes me worth saving…. Thus I don’t fully have an appreciation for what Christ did. Mostly I’m grateful that He died for my friends. I think they’re pretty damn great people, and i’m happy that they’ve been saved. I don’t understand what… makes me so special. What makes me worth the time, the blood and the pain. (as well as a million other things i don’t care to list at the moment)

I’m naive. I’m deathly clean in the dirtiest kind of way. I’m lost, and I’m not sure what makes me so …. worth the time.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not all about to get my switch blade and my razor blades out and begin hacking at myself (it’s not the funnest way to go at it anyway.) I’m not suicidal. I’m obviously alive for a reason, and God knows it. I just wish I knew it too. knew what made me so worth while. I’m all work and no play…. but that seems to be what life has been telling me to be. Work to be better than your brothers. Never make their mistakes. Stay true to the gospel. Feel bad when you do this. (which i never understood why certain siblings were allowed to do things, that i have been forbidden to do BY them. Because falling in love for a Catholic is so deathly wrong. Good grief.) Do good in school. Get a Job when you’re sixteen. Get great grades. Make people laugh. Smile. Put on makeup. Look good, you never know who is watching.

I just… feel like not doing those things. I guess that’s why i’ve been going to school in my pajamas the past few days. Because i’m literally three steps away from having some kind of break down. and I want to tell someone. Someone who can make it stop… Someone who can pull me back. But everyone looks at me and diagnoses me normal. You’re normal. You look normal. You’re fine. You don’t need help.

and i just want to scream at them. I want to say how much I hate them. How much I hate them for saying I’m fine… when I’m not. How much i just want to break down and cry until my perfect mascara ruins my perfect mask.

God — How did I get back here? I was here three years ago. I thought i was keeping it real. But the urge to satisfy others outweighs all. To make Mom happy, dad, Friends, Family, Church goers, Insurance Company.

When was the last time I did something that made me happy?

About seven months.

Derringer Meryl [The Reason] Out