Quick! In here...there's wax strips....
September 30th 2006 05:41
So I'm about to get myself in to tip top condition and go out to face public execution and the third degree. Why do I put myself into these situations? why do I stress, get excited, stress again and wind up coming home more confused then when I left? Yes, Im going home, back to the judgmental cess pool that is my home town.
I wonder why we do it to ourselves, worry about going home. Home is where the heart is, right? I mean, when Im where I live, I refer to home as where I grew up....when I get out there, I refer to home as where I live....am I a complete loser who doesnt know where her heart is? Seriousy, I think I have this gypsy blood, that doesnt want me to be tied down, kept in one place for any longer than I can stand. Im usually good at identifying my crap. Like, self diagnosing my own psychological fishizzle and dealing with it. Yet, I get anxious, every single time, and people, these are the people I love, who I grew up with, trusting them and hanging out, sharing and caring.
So I think Im just going to go out there and let it all hang out. Fuck them and making me be something Im not. Fuck the expectation, the judgement, the endless questions delving into my love life and examiniing my parents and what they are or arent doing. Watch out, Im coming home, Im not going to make myself into the pretty little do-gooder the town once embraced. Grow up.
Maybe, maybe this is my whole fault. Maybe Im imagining it all? a friend asked me if my whole weight loss 'obsession' stemmed from the critical eyes of my perception of the towns idea of my personal perfection.
I flatly refused the point. The weight loss is for my own personal self - I dont want to face lifestyle diseases such as cholesterol, diabetes or high blood pressure. I want to make positive changes that are life long. Regardless of the pressures from home....
I wonder why we do it to ourselves, worry about going home. Home is where the heart is, right? I mean, when Im where I live, I refer to home as where I grew up....when I get out there, I refer to home as where I live....am I a complete loser who doesnt know where her heart is? Seriousy, I think I have this gypsy blood, that doesnt want me to be tied down, kept in one place for any longer than I can stand. Im usually good at identifying my crap. Like, self diagnosing my own psychological fishizzle and dealing with it. Yet, I get anxious, every single time, and people, these are the people I love, who I grew up with, trusting them and hanging out, sharing and caring.
So I think Im just going to go out there and let it all hang out. Fuck them and making me be something Im not. Fuck the expectation, the judgement, the endless questions delving into my love life and examiniing my parents and what they are or arent doing. Watch out, Im coming home, Im not going to make myself into the pretty little do-gooder the town once embraced. Grow up.
Maybe, maybe this is my whole fault. Maybe Im imagining it all? a friend asked me if my whole weight loss 'obsession' stemmed from the critical eyes of my perception of the towns idea of my personal perfection.
I flatly refused the point. The weight loss is for my own personal self - I dont want to face lifestyle diseases such as cholesterol, diabetes or high blood pressure. I want to make positive changes that are life long. Regardless of the pressures from home....
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