The Girl in the Mirror

So I thought it was time to pop my head in and say hello. I know it seems that I do this about once a year and resolve to write more in here, and with every new year I have the best of intentions to do so. And with each passing year I fail at doing so, it seems funny I re- resolve to do it.

I have tried to set a more realistic goal of once a month for this year.

Yeah I know… once a month seems like a really sad amount. I’m of course welcome to do it more often than that, but once a month is what I’m asking of myself. Once every 28 – 31 days. And I’m hoping I can do that this time around for 2015.

I don’t have anything I’m restricting myself on subject wise either. I’m pretty sure I’m the only person reading this anyhow. So I feel like I have pretty free reign. I just might not go super personal, but still. The range is nice and open.

Anyhow, the things plaguing my thoughts today are many. Enough so, that I felt the urge to record them.

I can’t possibly cover them all right now.

I’ve been in a pretty good mood for about a week or so. Happy and excited about a new adventure I’m embarking on (I’ve recently been cast in a play called “Harvey”). It’s been over a year since I have done a show, and it’s nice to do one I’m excited about. I’m meeting new people, and working on my skill whilst “playing”.

Of course, the other side of me, the one who is unbelievably critical, keeps crawling in during this process. Sometimes she makes me feel stupid, ugly, fat, untalented, too talkative, a nice big assortment of faults. All the things about myself I struggle with regularly. She reminds me of them. And some days I can shove her down, but other days I’m not as successful.

She seems to greet me in the mirror most often. She has the most to say there. She looks me over and lets me have it. She tells me how the world sees me. Specifically, how men see me. Men whom I might dare be attracted to. She lets me know there is no amount of kindness I can give to make up for my looks. She reminds me I’m unattractive, in too many ways.

She is certainly not nice to me, however, she is one of the most honest voices in my life sometimes. She will tell me how it really is. Granted, she could be more diplomatic about it, and sometimes she for sure goes over the top, but not always. But she is willing to slam me with the brutal truth, whereas those who are close to me (most of them anyway) don’t want to see these things. It’s sweet of them. But in reality that’s not how the world sees me. And that is the battle I am constantly fighting.

It helps me understand why I can’t seem to attract men. No offense (if any man is reading this) intended, but guys just look and judge right there. Are you pretty or not? Are you fat? Is your face pretty? Nice figure? And if you can’t get past those within about 15 seconds, then it’s been decided you’re not even worth talking to. How do I know this? Trust me. I’ve had guys say no to even dancing with me for a 3 minute song, let one even be willing to talk to me in an actual conversation. It sucks, but it’s true.

And if someone actually does, it’s usually the creepy guy. I don’t mean the nerdy dorky slightly awkward ones. In fact, I typically am far more attracted to those. No no… it’s the creepy silence of the lamb kind of guys. Weird homeless men who won’t stop following me around creepy. I’m going to stalk you, and say I love you, and behave like a total nutcase creepy. I have serious anger management issues and love to mentally demean you constantly creepy. I’m a crazy meth induced schizophrenic creepy.

Um… sadly these examples are all true. Well, technically I don’t know if anyone has stolen women’s skin to make a suit… but the rest are true.

Is this all that matters? No of course not. What matters is the kind of person I am. How I treat others. And if I like myself. But it’s difficult to not be focused on how I look since it’s such a huge part of our world. I try to look nice. But I know in my heart, that even if I’m thinner, I’m still not attractive. I still just don’t have a very pretty face.

Anyhow, I’m not sure what my point is. My point is she has been visiting lately. Reminding me of who I am, and how I look. Reminding me to keep everything in check. And feeding off the emotions of those around me. Those close to me who are going through a depressive spout right now. But that’s for another entry.

Anyhow. I guess that’s all I want to say right now. Introduce you to my mysterious stranger as it were. Letting you know she is there. She is someone I have to live with. And she has a habit of making me look and feel stupid when I don’t want to. Not that one ever wants to, but it certainly seems to come up in very inopportune moments.