Within myself....

Growing up I always day dreamed, not just sitting around and wishing myself away into another life but while I was physically doing something. Washing the dishes, cooking dinner, folding laundry all while playing scenes in my head living another life. It would sometimes be from books I read or something I saw on t.v. or a combination of both. My mind wandered where I could be free to be the me, the one I knew was inside that couldn't be free. I realize now how active of a imagination I had as a child, not the kind living in fantasy worlds but one living in reality, I day dreamed but in real life, just not my real life.



I discovered a love of reading books in third grade and spent many days just lying in bed reading, escaping into worlds and lives that I did not have. My profound love of reading inspired me to become a writer. I wrote a book and even drew pictures because I loved to draw however I realized I couldn't be a writer because I did not have true talent, talent one was born with. This became my cycle of self doubt and hate, no matter what I thought or wanted to do I always convinced myself I wasn't good enough. I was a jack of all trades but a master of none, I was always good enough however I never felt passion nor true satisfaction that others seemed to posses while pursuing their true talents and dreams. I was meant to be average, even though deep inside I felt I was really meant to be great. That I was meant to leave some great contribution in this world before I met my demise. I wanted to make a difference, I wanted to help mankind, to seek others who were lost to ease their pain and find understanding. I wanted meaning in my existence, because I felt empty, lost and so lonely.



I could not identify who I was, I was told how to behave and be but no one showed me how to love myself. Looking back I hated myself for not being good enough at anything, I wasn't pretty or smart nor was I a boy. I was invisible to my family, only visible to be scolded or to be ridiculed, never being good enough. I sought acceptance and love elsewhere because I received none at home. I had a few boyfriends in junior high, the kind that lasted for a week which at the time was considered a long time. I was in a lot of pain during these years, I guess the onset of puberty and hormones didn't help. It was a horrible time for me, I started hating myself to the point of attempting suicide, one of the many failed attempts. I started drinking because it gave me courage to break out of my shell, to be able to talk to others, to feel less self conscious, it was liquid courage. I feared crossing the street because I was sure people would stare at me for being so ugly so I would actually walk further down to where their was no congestion and run across. It became a obsession to the point I thought I was fat, I was 105 pounds and 5'2 and half. So I dieted, not that I ate much to begin with but that was the one thing I could control. I couldn't change the shape of my Asian eyes, nor my straight dark brown hair, nor my small nose with the tiny nose bridge. I couldn't change that I wasn't white, but maybe I could change how fat I looked? So I wasn't fat but at that time my mind was so warped, I guess this is what it means to be a teenager, so self-absorbed, not able to see beyond oneself.