I've always thought that if the world was just a place where we each learned the same lesson over and over, I didn't want to live here. The idea of retracing steps, of backtracking, of being taught the same moral of the same story...it's unappealing to me. I want to learn new things, move forward and discover things unimagined to me. Feelings I hadn't felt before, theories I hadn't thought up before, lessons from the next story I have yet to live. I refuse to live in a world where the same things are taught, in a world that is circular, cyclical; in a world where I don't learn anything new at all.
So, I guess I should just go a head and knock off, because that's exactly the world I am living in. The same lesson over and over, the same problems, the same fears, the same freak-outs and obsessions, the same scared idiocy that creates the cycle and puts me back where I started: never having learned a thing. So, I'm back at the beginning, heart palpitating, stomach churning, not knowing how to move forward and having to relearn a lesson I don't think I've ever actually learned.
I don't know how to move forward. I'm so stuck stepping backwards, over and over, that I never learned the motion for stepping forward.
I should have written it down.
Remember, this was just supposed to be temporary? Remember, this was supposed to be the few months chance you needed to change? Remember, this was a life or death, this was an all or nothing, this was your last free chance to get it together? When did that change? When did this become permanent, when did I stop trying to move forward? Did I ever start?
I feel like I don't know myself any more, and, even if I did, I certainly wouldn't like myself. I feel like this is a all just a sham, and it's never going to get better, because I can't get better. But, I came here to get better, to change myself, to lose the weight, and to move on. I haven't done one of those things. It's May, I've been at this for months now, and not a thing has changed. Not even myself.
This is all really thick, like heavy cream; just weighty and dense, and I'm sorry for that. But hold on, stay with me, and let me tell you a story.
This Note is Legal Tender for All Debts, Public and Private
I have no self-control.
It's true, don't tell me it's not. One of the main reasons I want to go into the military is so they might instill in me some fucking discipline, because I have none.
I have cash, I have money in my account, I think I have means and I spend it even though the voice in the back of my head tells me I need to hold on to it; hold on to something, in case. Because, the voice in the back of my head believes in the worst-case-scenario, and always tells me they are right around the corner. Bad things are always going to happen to me, it says; I should be more careful. But, being in control of my money, being able to spend when and where I want, it makes me feel good. Makes me feel powerful, especially over that voice. In the end, of course, I sit, stomach churning, worried about whether or not I'll have money in the morning. I knew I would end up there all along, but I did it anyway. I spent the money and found myself so SOL. Honestly, I don't have a reason or an excuse for doing it. Other than that I want desperately to feel normal, to feel like I have all those comforting things, if only for a few hours. So, I spend the money to feel that way, and end up feeling worse in the end.
When I realized I was going to be getting paid for working the census, I realized I might finally be able to get some of my luxuries back, if only in small portions. Going to the doctor to get back on something to control my allergies, going to the eye doctor and getting back in contacts. Granted, both of those things needed to happen. Not necessarily yesterday, though. I know I am behind on my healthcare, but the eye doctor thing probably could have waited. I tend to run on the impatient side of things and went for it anyway. Before I even got my first paycheck from the census. Just after I got the smallest check ever from Borders and spent part of it partying on Saturday with Allison. It probably could have waited, but I didn't want to wait, I wanted something good after so much bad in the past week. I wanted something good and I ended up paying more than I expected, naturally after the exam had already taken place, which meant I kind of had no way out of it. So, I gave them what I could and left myself very little to get by on until today, when I was supposed to get my check from the Census Bureau.
I think we know where this is going. I didn't get paid.
I have a little less than a quarter of a tank, I have six dollars, and I don't know when I am going to get my money. Thus, heart palpitations, churning stomach, the urge to sob until I dry up and die.
Fuck my life.
No, fuck me. Because, I knew better. I knew I should have rescheduled my stupid eye doctor appointment. After I realized my insurance card was actually just a discount card, I should have rescheduled. I even thought, you know, I should really rethink this. But, I didn't. I said to myself, it won't be that expensive. Well, it was. And, naturally, I gave them all I could give, when really, I should have saved some for me. For my gas tank, just in case I didn't get paid today because of some stupid error somewhere in the system that is our government. A number error, I'm sure. An error that probably falls on me too.
All of this wouldn't be so bad if this weren't my life for the past four years.
But, this is my life. This is who I am. I'm a horrible accountant. I should never get to handle my own cash again.
Unfortunately, I am the only one who can.
And, I am the only one who can stop it from happening again.
By learning a fucking lesson I've been telling myself to learn for four years.
Four years ago, I was telling myself the same damn thing: you gotta learn the lesson. So learn it already. And then, I would be fine for a little while, until it happened again. I'd say the same thing, believing I'd finally learned it. This went on until it got so bad that I was scared of getting evicted, that I was unable to remain in Chicago. I moved here, certain I'd fixed me, or at least was on the right track to fixing me, for the last time. I moved here, back to Oklahoma, where I really just don't fit in, positive this time I would learn.
And now, right now, who has fucking learned a thing?
Not I.
I came here to get it together, to lose the weight, and to fucking get started on life. And, yet again, for the past seven months, I have been doing what I've been complaining of doing for the past four years: standing-bloody-still. If this isn't proof, I don't know what the fuck is.
I can't do this, I can't fucking do it. The last thing I want is to lose my life, but this isn't a life, so I'd better start making it one.
I know I go through this every few months. I know that I essentially told my mom if I didn't get it together I was going to end it. I was serious, and I am serious now. I am so tired of standing still. I am so tired of fucking up. I am so tired of never learned. Moreover, I am blooding fucking tired of spouting these same things, over and over, talking about changing myself and learning my lesson. I am so tired.
I am not going to kill myself, so stop worrying about that, because I am not ready to die. There is no reason for me to, I have a whole life ahead worth living. It's this life that isn't worth living, this life that I have to kill. This life that I have to change, and I have to change it now, or it will never happen for me. I know it won't, because nothing says it will but me.
I'm ready to change, I'm ready to be done. I'm ready to let got of all the shit in my past and move on. I'm ready to do whatever it takes, I don't care anymore. Whatever it takes.
I counted up all of my change. I have enough to get a tank of gas, now I just need to figure out how to get my damn money for the work I've done.
I'm getting my life together, because it will kill me if I don't. Maybe I won't be holding a smoking gun, or an empty bottle, maybe my heart will still be beating when I'm dead, but it'll kill me. Because, this, who I am right now, is not living. This is not the life that I need to lead. If these keeps up, if I stay this way forever, I will die having never known who I could be. Having never learned this lesson and having never moved on to the next. I will die having never lived the life I set out to, because I couldn't figure out how to climb this mountain and start the downhill slope towards who I want to be.
Seven weeks to July. Seven weeks to take all that I've learned and all that I still need to learn and put it into use. Seven weeks, and I will have moved forward. I will have moved.
Would You Let Me Know
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