But The Quest for Beauty is a Beast. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Happy Nothing to Me I do not know what to write. I have been thinking about it for the past few days, sat at this computer, ready to put in an entry, but the words just would not come. They recede on the tip of my tongue, and I become mute. Because I am so ashamed of what I am. Of who I am. And I do not know what will become of me. When I was younger everyone expected me to be something great. I was an avid reader, straight A student, neat, creative, athletic, and had lots of friends. Nothing less than perfection was acceptable for me or for anyone else in my family. I once brought home a report card with an A- on it in math in third grade. My grandma sat me down for four hours each day making me do math problems far above my grade level and comprehension. By the time I was in fifth grade I had forgotten what she had made me learn, and that was the grade we were suppossed to learn long division in. I had the hardest time learning it again, mainly from anxiety of failure. And now that is what I am. A failure. At everything. I have one of the highest grades in my philosophy class in college, and that makes me not want to go. Because I fear that I will somehow fail. I may understand Socrates, but that does not mean I will understand Saint Aquinas. So I stay home. And cry. I let the tears flow. And I binge. I binge until my ribs hurt, until my stomach protrudes so that I can no longer see my feet, until I can barely breathe... I wish I was joking. I wish it was all a nightmare. But it is not. In the past three days I have eaten approximately $140 of groceries. I bought $50 last night, and they are almost gone. My knuckles are bloody from constant purging. My mouth is lined with sores both on the inside and outside, and my tongue is cracked and bleeding. My face is puffy, my eyelids droopy. And the thirst. The thirst is the worst. 26 cans of Diet Cola in twelve hours. Yet I am still thirsty. Nothing will quench my thirst. My tongue feels like sandpaper, and I try not to choke on it. Because it is so dry, as if I had nothing to drink at all... I am all finished with my high school work. No one cares. There will be no celebration for my graduation, though I have been promised a huge party and whatever else I wanted for years. Because no one thought I would make it. But now that I have it is nothing. I am not surprised. Just sad. Happy Graduation to me... Someone light a candle, I will blow a kazoo. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------------- |
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