Ugh. I am sooo tired of problems.
I wish my life were different. It's hard to pinpoint exactly what kind of different, but I do not like my life. I am not suicidal, don't worry. I am just... uncomfortable. I don't know what it is that makes me feel this way.
Maybe I know myself too well. I can tell you, without a trace of doubt, that I have pretty well non-existant self-esteem. I was taught not to like myself in school. Not by teachers, of course. I remember distinctly being eight years old and in class at my old school. We were working on drawing this ridiculous picture for a cookbook we were making as a class. I remember talking to the kids seated at my table. I asked to see their drawings. Each and every single one of them, when they held theirs up, said, "Well, it's really ugly, but here it is." And when they asked to see mine, I held mine up and said, "I like mine." And the expressions on their faces! As if I'd made some terrible faux-pas, by admitting I liked my drawing. It made me wonder...
And then I began to understand later that all their compliments, too, were false. We were taught to "be nice"-- and just where do you stop with that? People out and out lie about their opinions of things. I have. It wasn't generally accepted to say anything but "Oh, your ENTER SCHOOL PROJECT HERE is sooo nice! You're going to do so�much better than me!" If you didn't say that, you were mean. If you were mean, you had no friends. For a while I had no friends, because I said what I thought. I eventually learned, though, to see and compare for myself while smiling falsely and saying how lovely everyone was. Comparing unbiasedly? Maybe, maybe not. After all, who can I ask about it? Has no one else but me noticed? I don't want to ask.
Besides that, I am completely analytical when it comes to my opinions. I can pick apart my thought processes.�I can be extremely objective when it comes to what I think (especially when I try to decide my opinion on something). It's sometimes almost scary. I can at one time be extremely practical, almost to the point where it's not practicality anymore, and extremely empathetic and sensitive. I don't know how that's possible, but I am like that. At other times I just can't be hard and objective. I am actually very, very sensitive and sometimes that part of me comes out and won't go away. I am vulnerable, and it pisses the analytical part of me off.
I am having an extremely hard time living with myself right now. I am not self-loathing. It's just that I have so much to think about and decide and there is not a single person on the face of the planet that I can tell everything that is on my mind. Not one. How is one 15-year old supposed to deal?
I suppose that's why I feel like I'm older than I actually am. I feel old inside, like an adult more than�a child. And I wish I were a child again, in some ways.
I am not in despair. That's the wrong word. I guess the word is alone, and feeling helpless. It would help so much if I had some self esteem, but I don't. So I will manage. I will make it. I will try.
~Annabel
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