Late in Journal

to the game.

Story of my life.

I’m a bully. I’m a bitch. I just want to get my way, and am willing to do “whatever works” to get it.

Well. That is a slight exaggeration. But mostly true.

I feel like I need to keep in mind that I’m worse than I want to believe. I’m always worse. Keep that humility. Yet, something incredibly asinine or arrogant almost always slips out. And, I don’t like it.

I have an idea of the person who I’d like to be, but I need to keep reminding myself that I’m not that person. I can’t just slip on that image like a pair of shoes. I can’t just will myself different. Because I am a person already.

My mom seems to think that feelings are voluntary. Like, I can just pick and choose what sort of emotions I can experiences. Just don’t feel that way she says. And I remember her saying that when I was young, too. Sadness is just your own personal Hell. Just don’t give it power.
What a bunch of horseshit.

Previously, I had always thought that “the way I was” was just… my personality or something. I was just a melancholy personality. Turns out… no.
When you’ve been beaten, threatened, coerced, abused, unloved and used, sadness is a natural response. It’s natural. The feeling, I mean. Everyone feels sad when they lose something they had or don’t get something that they deserve. It’s a completely involuntary, spontaneous experience.
Anger, too, is the natural reaction to being hurt.

Everyone thinks there needs to be some management system to these powerful negative emotions.
And its like. No… no not really at all. Would I try to manage my reaction to seeing ballet? Or perusing an art museum? Why is our “personal” emotional reaction any different? Why can’t we just accept that our being is perfect the way it is? And let the world have it’s impact upon our senses? And then, let ourselves impact the world in a true and honest and pure way.