onlythunder - Looking back..

I had another journal two years ago, over two years ago actually. It was back when I was 18, and my grandmother was dying with the cancer. And I was reading it and it just weirded me out. I was stronger then, than I am now. I seemed to have more insight into myself too.

Here's something from Febuary 2004. And I swear, "the old guy" isn't Yoda. At first that totally freaked me out because I genuinely thought I was talking about him. Then I remembered I didn't know him then. The 'Old Guy' I'm refering to is a 34 year old guy I had met on the internet and thought about having sex with.


It is true though, I am attached to the old guy. No matter how much I try to remain mostly stone hearted, I'm really not. I feel everything I don't want to feel. I wear my heart on my sleeve even though if you asked me I'd vehemently deny it. Sometimes I feel as though I'm 30 years old and I have the weight of the world on my shoulders. And then there's those other days where I feel like a lost little girl. Most of the time I feel like both of those combined. I've said it before, I'm damaged goods. And I honestly mean it, I come with a shitload of baggage and I KNOW that's so unattractive. Men don't like to deal with issues. They want everything to be swift, clean and easy. No attachments, just a fulfillment of primal needs.

My emotions aren't clean or easy. I've got a large entanglement of confusing cob webs up in my mind and I don't share them with people. I don't like to burden people with telling them what I really feel.

What do I feel right now? Like beating the shit out of something until my knuckles are raw. But I'm too tired, I'm emotionally drained I can't take much more. I feel like there's this string dangling and a cat is clawing away threads of it. That string is my sanity and that nice little kitty is getting really close to totally dismantling it.

I want to cry for all the times that I haven't, for all the pain that I've felt. For the shit that people have put me through, for the things I've done to myself. For every single thing that has gone wrong in my existance. I normally deal .. okay with all that mental luggage, but with my grandma in the hospital and was near death it really came back. It brought back my faith and anger in god. And it brought back that wave of pain for every person that has died and left me. My dad, my uncle, my great grandma, my poppop. I don't really remember my great grand parents too much, I do remember some things and others I've heard. They loved me so much. I wonder if it's a crime to care about me and God someone strikes down on those people that do.

I think about all the kids that tortured me, the teasing.. the whole trying to kill me thing, the sexual assault. They tore down my self confidence and I'm fighting SO HARD to get it back. It's not an easy journey.

I want to cry for all the pain I went through with my leg, for all the normal teenage years I missed. I want to cry for all those years of my childhood that I thought I had to grow up, and I did. And now all I want to do is grow down.

And yet part of me wants to raise middle finger in the air and say "Fuck you life, I made it through and I keep on truckin'."

I can make it through almost anything.



If that was two years ago, why is it now I can't take that stance? Give life the middle finger? And then there's another one from June of 2004, this was actually written a few days before my grandmother passed.



I'm strange, no really.. I am. It just amazes and amuses me on how weird and different I act when I'm around people. I'm not complaining, I'm not going to go on a self pitying wallow spree because it's not like I'm unhappy, I just feel.. so.. unbalanced. It's like teetering on this edge but it's between two extremes. One is my false bravatto, my alterego.. my crazy hyperactive down right almost ADD ridden Jen. It's not that that ISN'T me at all. Because it is. But it's just all of that part of my personality shoved foward. When you act that way, it tends to scare people. It wards them off. Nobody gets close.

I realized I'm very introverted, for some reason I didn't think I was. But I just don't feel comfortable exposing myself to people. Sure, I'll talk about my grandmothers illness, just to get some of that frustration off my chest but I don't talk about how it scares the shit out of me. How much it hurts to see one of the main stable people in your life since you were born slowly deteriorate until they're no longer on this earth. I'd like to cry, but I can't. My job is being the strong one. I have to hold everything up, otherwise the fondation would get too shakey.

I'd like to allow people to get close to me. I'd like to have a relationship that includes actual feelings. But part of me is so deathly terrified I don't know if I could allow it to happen.

There's this big part of me that's screaming, it's this monster in my chest that beats on my ribcage. It tells me to run away, that THAT is the only opportunity I can take right now. That running from reality will make it stop.

If I pretend that there's nothing wrong, there isn't. Imagination is a powerful thing. Too bad I'm blinding myself with it.

I don't understand how I could have more insight into myself at 18 years old, than I do at 20. I'm supposed to have grown these past two years, but I guess I've just been backtracking instead of moving foward. It seems like a lot of stuff has gone on in the past two years, but it hasn't been as earth shattering as the previous things that have gone on, and I didn't break from those things. Why now? I don't understand.

There were a lot more entries in the old journal and back then I was SO curious about sex, and relationships with men.. I kind of feel like it was a dud. I wanted so badly to know what sex was like. I was obsessed with being a virgin though. And.. not being a virgin isn't much different then being one. Sex wasn't THAT big of a deal. Sure, it's good. But it's not completely life altering, unless of course you get a side affect of it. But the actual act.. yeah, it was stupid to obsess about. Yet even now I still obsess about wanting it. I still look at men as future fucks rather than humans, but its not the inquistive/innocent view anymore. It's just the plain and simple truth that I just want to fuck.

Especially after the psychoatic ex, I'm not really into looking for someone to be with. Just sex.. is fine with me. And yes, I still want someone to care. But there's a difference between wanting someone to care about you, and show affection and have lots of sex then there is wanting to be IN LOVE with someone and do that whole relationship thing. I don't want to be IN love with someone. I don't want the commitment and I don't want that whole bag of worms that can come along with it. You can care, and still be casual.

What I would really like is a single man, preferably one that has to wear suits to work because that is just fucking HOT.. That just wants to have sex all the time. And when I mean all the time, I don't mean 3 times and then gets cold feet because people might be talking. I want to get down and dirty as many times as possible. A guy that has his own apartment would be good too. Then I could prance around in my undies and bake brownies afterwards.

You know, there's this woman at work that everyone thinks is a whore because it's likely that she fucks or sucks a lot of rich men regardless of a wedding ring, just to get things. Jewelry, money, etc. And sometimes I look at her and I'm jealous because she's getting sex and materialistic possessions. I want a damn sugar daddy. But I'm not a hot asian woman with no ass. Not saying I'm an ogre or anything but I can't compete with asian. What the hell is it with men and the asian thing? Hmm.