Saturday, December 25, 2010

I'm not sure what to title this...

I used to think that I was a great actress. That by being in some various amounts of plays and musicals made me great, and that I could easily take on any role that ever came to me. And if I ever had to do something challenging or something that I personally didn't know if I could do, or maybe even something that I didn't want to do or seemed "out of character" for me, that I could just develop a brand new character and take on her role. I decided a long time ago that living as someone else was easier and more exciting. I decided to buy into many lies about myself and realized that I was too boring and too plain and not a valuable character in this story of life. I decided to create a new me with the different characteristics that I thought people might like. I was able to blend in with many different groups of people. Old people loved me, children adored me, and all that mattered was that I was well-liked. Well, I am a terrible actress. Looking back, all I know is how different emotions feel. Ergo, i'm a pretty emotional person.

I used to think that I was a great singer. When I was really young I would sing a lot of Disney songs. I used to pretend that I was Belle from Beauty and the Beast and I would re-create the scene where Belle and the Beast were dancing in the ballroom. One time my uncle found me singing and wanted to put me into voice lessons. He thought I could have been this great singer, but unfortunately (or maybe fortunately?) there was nothing for me in Pine City at the time. I have sung in a choir since I was in first grade. I would sing along to karaoke machines in bars and a bunch of drunk people would cheer me on. And somehow all of that and years of people telling me that I was good gave me a big ego. But, I am really not a great singer either. (I realized this when I had a hard time singing Silent Night at a Christmas Eve service at church.)

I used to think that I was a great person. I would go to church every sunday and be involved with as many things as I can. When I lived at home I would work part time, go to school full time, take care of my brothers and cook and clean and do my homework and still have time for some sort of a social life. I got involved with youth groups, bible studies, women's nights. I was a camp counselor, Jr. High youth leader. Now I'm on leadership with Campus Crusade for Christ and attend a college-women's bible study.

I came home from college a few days ago. And since then, a bunch of people from my church in Pine City have told me how proud they are of me and how great I am and all sorts of stuff. But, i'm really not that great of a person either. I lie A LOT and I curse like a sailor. I am not a very good friend. I don't read my Bible. I only pray when I need something. I contemplate giving up my faith altogether. I sometimes want to throw my life away. I want to give into many different temptations, but don't ever go through with it for fear of what people would think.

A friend asked me a few days ago a very simple question. "What makes you happy?"

I wish I had a "favorite things" song to just list off all these things that makes me happy. But I don't. Nor could I have at that point made some crap up that makes me happy. My list was pretty short. I'm pretty sure I just told her that being with friends and singing and reading and listening to music makes me happy. And while all of that is true, I feel like there should be more. That I should have this joy all the bloody time. But I don't. The truth is, it takes a lot to make me happy right now.

The truth is. I'm incredibly messed up. Maybe it's because of the years of pretending I was someone that I was not that messed me up. Because now, I don't even know who I am or how to even act like me. I don't know how to adapt myself into the place that i've created for me when my old character fails. I don't know how I got to where I am today, and I don't know what to do.

To my very good friend who let me cry that night and who has lived with me and endured me this past semester no matter how crazy I was/am. Who tells me i'm beautiful and loved every day, even though I never believe her: I'm working on my "happy" list, and on myself.

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