I'm writing this mostly for myself. You're owed a bunch of posts where I gush about you, but I need to write this.
I don't want to be sad anymore. I don't want to feel like I'm uninvited to my own life, that I'm this gross and stupid lump nobody wants to be around. I'm officially declaring that I want to be done with that. I want these seven years of bad luck to be over. I'm tired of looking back at photos from as far back as grade 9 and knowing how much pain I was in. I don't want another photo like that. Not when I can change.
I know I'll always have issues. Everyone will. But I don't want to have them dictate my entire life. I don't want my schooling or my projects or the rest of my life to be dictated by how much I hate myself. I want to like myself. I want so desperately to see what I'm capable of. I haven't even approached that.
I've been thinking about all the things people have said about me in the past. All the peptalks from professors who saw my potential, my friends who think I'm strong and kind and astute, all that. You and the rest of those people wouldn't be lying to me about that. I want to live up to that for myself. I'm going to live with myself for the rest of my life, and I want it. I want to live. I want to be who I am. Most importantly, I want to like that.
I want to be organized and disciplined. I want things I can be proud of. I know I'll always make mistakes, but I want to have built up someone who can tackle them. I want that to be me.
Last Thanksgiving, I made a decision that would fuck myself for the rest of the year. This Thanksgiving, I made a similar decision, but I don't want to fuck myself. This is going to be the start of that. I'm going to make a plan and do it. Mark my words, this is going to be the start. I'm going to get better. I'm going to finally get better. I don't have to hurt so bad. Like Dr. Davis said to me in his office (paraphrasing), "If you got your shit together, you could do whatever you want." I want to do whatever I want.
I was in Sylvan the other night on the phone with N-----, and we were supposed to be talking about J-----, but we ended up talking for a bunch of hours about whatever. I was on the shore, with those patches of sand that poked above the water, and we were talking about how, for the first time in our lives, we felt like we've found our people. She said something like, "I've never thought that it was ever going to be it. Now I know this is it." I said, "This is it."
I remember thinking, "Please just let this be it." I know she meant something a little different, but the same thing goes: it's going to be it.
I'll go to therapy. I'll get diagnosed with ADHD. I'll take a gap year. I'll do whatever study technique it takes. I'll get a coach. I'll ask for help. I'll read a book a year. I'll do whatever it fucking takes. I just can't take another seven years of this. This has to be it. I swear to God, this has to be it. I have to. I have no choice. Why the fuck would I have come all this way if I couldn't get better? I'm with all these weirdos with big fucking dreams in this weird city. This can not be in vain. I'm one of them. I have to get better. I'm going to get better.
I love you all. I'm going to start treating myself better.
