I just want to begin by saying that I am damn proud of myself.
Self-affirmation - it's a good thing. My whole life I've always been so concerned about what people think about how I look, how I act, what I think, what I believe...and I am so happy that I'm at a point in my life now where FINALLY I don't give a crap about what ANYONE else thinks about me. I know that I am a homebody. I like staying home. I like spending a weekend cleaning my condo, playing video games and watching my favorite movies while my cat snuggles with me on the couch. I like the fact that I can quote from more movies than almost anyone I know. I like spending hours on the computer discovering new music by browsing through itunes, or reading an entire Harry Potter book in one sitting. To me, it's a mini-vacation. I am NOT pathetic because I don't want to hang out at a bar or go clubbing every other night. And before anyone gets offended, that previous statement was NOT INTENDED FOR ANYONE IN PARTICULAR. IT WAS A GENERAL STATEMENT ABOUT MY PERSONALITY. I don't like bars. I don't like clubs. I like going to movies. I like planning day trips, even if I hardly ever really go on any. I'd really rather hang out at a friend's house and just talk, find out what they've been doing, how they've been. Yes, I'm 27 and it's taken me this long, but I know who I am now, and I like me.
Let me tell you why.
Two years ago I almost died. For months and months before this, I was positive that I had no friends, that no one liked me, that I was fat, ugly, and would never be loved. I was sure of it. I kept telling myself that every day. What was the point of living? I was sure I was a burden to everyone around me, and that there was absolutely nothing good about me being on this earth. God must have made a mistake. There was no purpose for me existing in the universe. I cried myself to sleep every night for weeks. I kept sinking lower and lower into my own personal hell. I decided that it wasn't worth it anymore. I didn't want to cry myself to sleep every night. I didn't want to have to look at myself in the mirror and be reminded of how ugly I was. I didn't want to live anymore.
And then someone called me. Two days before Christmas - they called just to say hi. That call saved my life. I didn't have the courage to call anyone else - why call them when they obviously didn't want to have anything to do with me? But I was wrong. I
do have friends. They
do love me. They love me whether or not I get to talk to them every day, or if I only see them once a month. I have a family that loves me. They don't know how close they came to losing me, they probably never will, and I'm ashamed to think that I almost put them through that.
I was the one pushing them away.
I was the one ignoring the "I love you's," absolutely positive that they didn't really mean it, because who could love someone like me? But they do, and I believe it now.
That phone call saved my life, but it's up to me to make my life worth living. No one else can tell me what will make me happy. No one else really knows what my dreams are, or what I really want to achieve. But I do, and I'm the one who will make it happen. No one is going to do it for me. I don't want them to, either. That's why we all have our own lives. The most important thing I've learned is that I control my own life and I can make it as enjoyable or as miserable as I want. But why would I want to be miserable? Like everyone else, my life is a blank canvas - and I'm going to paint it the way I want it...
