realization: the rejection factor

after days--well, really, years--of this pain-in-the-stomach-self-destructive-psychotic behavior, i came to a quite interesting realization last night as i, yet again, found it impossible to fall asleep: i am terrified of rejection. out of all my many fears, rejection is at the top of that list. it is probably on its own piece of paper and everything. and it is possible to link every crazy thought my head produces and every silly act i commit to this fear. i could unhealthily recall times and places when i have been rejected--going back as far as preschool. and i have realized that i have continued to carry these things with me--adding to the mountain ever so often. and all this rejection, the rejection every one experiences in their life, i just can't let it go. and to avoid more rejection, i push people away, i quit, i make an excuse (i am not pretty enough, not funny enough, not smart enough, not nice enough, not compassionate enough, and so on).

and this realization completely explains why i doubt people want to spend time with me, when there is a record player running through the list of people who have chosen not to. it explains why i have been having such i hard time the last few months: between feeling like no one wants to hire me, a friend who can't make an effort to continue to know me, a boy who reminded me of someone i wish i could forget who i now think of more than i have in last four years, no wonder i am panicked and stressed out. it is all rejection. and so i prepare for more rejection, pushing people and plans and things away, even when i don't want to, even when it causes me to become physically ill.

so what do i do now? i have had this realization. so how do i change? how do i let the past go? how do i stop carrying around all the past rejection? how do i start trusting that not everyone will eventually walk away?

how do i convince myself that i am someone that is worth sticking around for?

i can't think of a title.

john mayer trio shakes my eardrums into dance--they are my present obsession.
what do you think about ghana, africa?
you get to a certain point, and i think you have to just jump in.
tomorrow is thanksgiving.
the high will be eighty degrees.
my mom bought me a grey sweater today.
what do you prefer: grey or gray?
rosy-ring salad still needs to be made. it tastes better than it sounds.
i don't like the word caulk. so my dad continued to repeat it. i said, vagina and penis. and he blushed and stopped saying caulk.
diet coke calls.
i am going to answer.

breakdowns

tally of breakdowns for this week: five.
tally of "almost" breakdowns for this week: four.
tally of panic attacks for this week: two. (note: new all-time high for one week period)
tally of screaming matches with my mother for this week: one.
tally of emails regretted for this week: two.
tally of how many relationships i have hurt--if not ruined--for this week: three. (note: also a new all-time record)

i am kicking ass this week, no?

i hate that

i hate that i am having a hard time believing people this week.
i hate that i am feeling lost and lonely.
i hate that i am afraid that i am never enough...never good enough.
i hate that when i listen to your words or read your words--everyone's words--i only hear the voice in my head telling me to remember how great you lie--how great you all lie.
i hate that i want to punish myself.
i hate that i feel guilty.
i hate that i am sitting in front of this screen with tears rolling down my face.
i hate that my hands and feet are cold.
i hate that i just want to run away.
i hate that i know running away won't solve a thing.
i hate that i am high-maintenance, difficult, a challenge.
i hate that i don't want to be me.
i hate that i hate me.

words

a conversation. a realization. the last time i will be disappointed.
a picture. a fear in motion. the first of many tears.
a call. a change of plans. this is too much for one to handle.

worry.
stress.
anger.
nausea.

words. tears. more words.

enough words.
no more words.

twenty-three

today i turned twenty-three. and although there was cake eaten and presents opened, it really doesn't seem like my birthday today, and it's because it is the first time in five years that i haven't been with my best friends on my birthday. i love my family, and i really did have a great day. but my friends spoil me. i get an entire day--they pamper the princess out of me. and i love them and miss them dearly because of it.

here's to the past year. i hope i am a year wiser. and here's to another year. may answers be found and adventures had and may i continue to be surprised in this merry-go-round ride called life.

i did blow out all my candles in one breath, and i believe my wish will come true.

the sick poetry of it all

for as long as i can remember i have been deathly afraid of snakes. i can kill a spider. i might swear at the sight of a roach or a mouse, but i get over it. no creature has evoked the kind of fear the snake has caused me to have. and the fear was highlighted and, now, exaggerated this morning.

as i stepped out of bed this morning, instead of stepping on the nice, soft carpet, i placed my foot on a snake. i jumped back into bed not knowing what my foot had come into contact with--what had just bitten me. as i looked over the side of the bed like a child looking for monsters, i saw a snake curled up in fight mode. i freaked out--quite the understatement. i yelled and screamed and called with all my might. i heard my mom yell up, "lindsay?" "MOM, MOM, MOM!!!" "what? what's going on?" she yelled back. "SNAKE!!! SNAKE!!! SNAKE!!!" "well, get out of there!" i jumped out of bed and sprinted to the door, looking back just in time to see the snake make it's way under my bed. my mom greeted me outside my bedroom door as i hysterically explained to her what had happened. "did it bite you?" "i don't know. i think so. i don't know." i started to cry; i couldn't stop shaking. my brave mommy found a shovel in the garage and stripped my room apart looking for the culprit, while i found the bite mark on my big toe--two red dots. my mom did finally find the snake--and that was the end for him. so with my foot elevated until we decided i wasn't going to die from snake poisoning, we both sat in the living room a little teary eyed and continued to shake.

it still gives me chills just thinking about it. and i start to gag and feel nauseous if i think about it for too long. so i am going to end this entry now. that is my story. what a way to start your day, eh? needless to say, i am not sleeping in my bedroom tonight.

not in the know

when i was swimming laps yesterday morning the most random of thoughts crossed my mind--granted, a lot of random thoughts cross my mind especially when swimming back and forth, back and forth for an hour in a pool--but this one was especially random: i wonder what sarah's favorite ice cream is. then this was quickly followed by: i wonder what richard's favorite pie is. and: i wonder what abby's favorite part of her day is. and: i wonder what song is stuck in audra's head today. then: i wonder if stephani and rachael can paint walls in their new apartment; i wonder what colors they would choose. then: i wonder if carl has to wear a tie to work; i wonder how many ties he owns. and: i wonder how many push-ups michael can do in a minute. and this is when i realized, there a lot of random things that i know--and adore--about my friends, but there are also a lot of random things that i don't know. which is actually hard to believe considering how many rounds of "would you rather" we have all played. but i guess you can't know everything--no one, i think, really ever wants to know everything about another person. what would be the fun in that?

but i would like to know a few more things. smile.

the leather jacket

today i cried because my mom wants to buy me a leather jacket for my birthday. i actually cried. now, it could have to do with the fact that i am awfully close to my period. but i think it also has to do with the fact that lately i feel like all i do is yell and scream and jump up and down declaring what i want, what i want to do, who i want to be, what i want to accomplish, what i need, what i expect--and i am rarely heard. i don't want a leather jacket. i am not a leather jacket kind of girl. and i am frustrated. i am definitely a frustrated kind of girl. so i cried. not in the spoiled-brat-i-want-two-ponies-not-just-one kind of way, but in the please-listen-to-my-words-and-don't-kill-a-cow-and-strap-it-to-my-body kind of way.

i wish i could rewind and replay last weekend. a week ago this very moment i was with my sarah. (sarah--today i watched a re-run of gilmore girls on tv and my jaw dropped as i realized that not only can we freakishly resemble paris hilton and nicole richie, but we are very gilmore girlish too. in concluding this, it made a little more sense why some people (okay, all that i know of) can feel a little overwhelmed in our presence: it would also be overwhelming to spend time with the mother and daughter duo.)

if i could, i would say: it's not worth it anymore. the ball is in your fucking court. this is me waving a white flag. why am i expected to return a phone call quickly but you can wait an entire week? the distance just isn't going to work. i can't count on you. i am tired of making excuses. if it was important to you, i would know it. you don't know me like you think you do. i will defend her all day, but i hate you for making me do it.

blah.

the last two days have been hard.

long post

a string of pop songs play in my head. sometimes when i am all alone i sing them at the top of my lungs and pretend i am on stage performing in a sold out arena.

who knew a young man in d.c. could be pondering the exact life questions i have been pondering? i hope one of us finds the answers soon.

i am not a morning person unless sarah happens to be around in the morning. then i can talk and talk and laugh and laugh. i don't even mind getting up at six to have breakfast with her and richard. i mean, damn, six is early. but i love them that much. maybe when we share a duplex (pool house plan has now melted into a duplex plan) we can all have breakfast together at least a few times a week. that would be worth getting out of bed.

is it possible to feel like a failure and still have a good day? that explains my present state: failure yet overall content with my day. i don't think i have ever had such a day.

my birthday is in ten days. i will be twenty-three. that seems awfully young and oddly old.

sometimes it is easier to remain silent than to regret what was said.

today i sealed a few hundred small tiles. and i also applied for yet another job. i watched another episode of general hospital (trains collided at the end. and it just so happened that nearly the entire cast could be found on one or the other train. and the plot thickens.) and i yelled at my puppy to stop barking countless times. i thought about calling sarah, but thought i shouldn't disturb her in her great efforts to get work done, besides i just talked to her yesterday and i really didn't have anything important to say. i picked my brother up from school and sang mates of state at the top of my lungs all the way home. joseph laughed whenever i messed up the words, which actually wasn't too many time considering all the words in their songs. and then i thought, wow, imagine all the brain space i have used up for countless amounts of lyrics. i mean, countless amounts.

long post. but i guess it has been awhile.