It's Mine.

Here’s a new concept for today’s blog: fuck vague-ness and anonymity. Here’s to complete and total honesty, to facing oneself head on no matter how hard it might be. Here’s to admitting to oneself and the entire world everything that is wrong, and horrible, and sad, and troublesome. And here’s to letting all of that go to find out what exactly will make life glorious, or as close as any of us can get to it.

Pretty much what I’ve gotten from a lifetime of T.V. and movies is that, people are wretched things. I don’t know if people are inherently evil or if there’s something along the way that turns us into selfish creatures. Either way, we are all very selfish beings, no matter what. I get that people can surprise you. That there are people who are ridiculously generous, and who give, give, give and ask nothing in return. I’ve known people who just love, and give, and are amazing. But the fact that they come so far and few between is what makes them amazing, hence leaving the bulk of humanity as I said prior: selfish beings.

Forgive me if I ramble on tangents. Anyway, I was admittedly a very selfish child, you can ask any of my family members. I didn’t like to share anything, and would rather play in a corner alone than share my favorite toy. I told on people a lot, and cried when I didn’t get what I wanted. I was a complete and total bitch of a child. If I saw myself as a child now, it would take an incredible amount of self-restraint not to bitch slap myself. Anyway, somewhere down the line, I started living my life for other people. But not in the healthy, self-less way. I wanted other people to respect me, look up to me, be proud of me, praise me, and mostly just like me. I was surrounded by a family of nay-sayers who loved to gossip about me, talk down to me, and do everything they could to make themselves feel superior. I think it was because they thought they had to, to make me a stronger person. I think it was because they had no idea that they were doing it, and furthermore that they had no idea what it would do to a child, and that raising a child this way was incredibly detrimental.

Enough with the sob story, my family was/is fucked up. (Who’s isn’t in their own way?) The end.

So I moved away. I moved as far away as my mother, finances, and college acceptances allowed. And I earned my right by going to a top 25 university in our great nation to say whatever the hell I wanted to say to my so-called “elders” whether or not they think so. And the more I stayed away, the more I got so damn tired of living my life for other people. It probably all goes back to the whole selfish child thing, but I don’t really care.

I’m not getting a degree because it’s what my parents have always wanted for me. I can’t do that to myself anymore. I’m not going to be the one with fifty extra curricular activities, a stupid high gpa, and the LSAT score everyone prays for. I’m not going to pick some arbitrary career because people are counting on me to be the smart, successful one. I honestly don’t care about any of it, graduating, the degree, the walking on the stage, the pats on the back from my family. Fuck success, fuck praise, fuck false pride.

Okay well, maybe not fuck success, but let it be for me, because I wanted it. Because I busted my ass for no other reason than I wanted to, I felt like it at the time, and it made me happy.

I’m leaving my favorite city incredibly soon. I’m moving even farther away and taking a much needed break from literally everything I know. I want to know what it’s like to wake up in the morning and not feel like complete shit. I want to make a decision for myself, for my own well being and no one else‘s. And if it means not getting my degree when literally everyone was expecting me to, if it means moving to the opposite coast somewhat prematurely, if it means leaving the city I love so much, and the friends I love more than anything, so be it.

I know it’s going to suck for a little bit. I know I’m going to be sad and miss everyone. And I know it’s going to be a lot harder than I would like to admit, but I’m doing it anyway.

Because for once, while I used to say, “This is my toy, don’t touch it” This is my life, and no one else is going to play with it ever again.

Farewell. (Or as a good friend of mine said, “See you later.”)