"Like I said, I've always felt at home in my own brain. I've always had the ability to do anything I put my mind to, and I know that I have the skills to achieve anything that I want, and I am more than confident in saying that because I've allowed myself to believe and accept that realization. What's hard about this is knowing where I need to be, what I need to do, who I need to know, and the means I need to have necessary for me to achieve those things, but to be living in a place where we are constantly told that these things are of no value or almost impossible to do without a college education."
I basically just told my class that it's a load of shit that we're made to believe that without college we won't be happy, and won't succeed in doing what we love and/or are naturally good at. This was also the day that the college counselor came in to talk to students one on one. Yee haw! Mostly though, I just tried pass along the message I've been receiving lately about doing what you want and what's going to make you happiest. It would be folly for me to say that it's something that I've discovered on my own, but I know it's what I need to do and I wanted to share that. So what better opportunity than to utilize our public speaking assignment?
And what better opportunity to announce that whatever I choose to do "I'll still be the incredibly lonely, misunderstood, enigma of an artist I was born." Really? Really? Did I really just say that to my entire senior seminar class? As if people didn't already think I was self centered, overly embellished, schizoid. Why don't we just ice the cake? Anyone want a slice? No? That's fine. I'll eat it myself.
I suppose school's the same old story. I really don't want to be there around everyone, and doing busy work. But I'm still managing to get by with exceptional grades with what feels like little effort and enthusiasm. And I haven't lost my voice from yelling about my frustrations because really I'd just rather not talk to anyone but Kailee about her new crab/cancer tattoo and what she's going to do and where she's going to live after she graduates, and about myself. But it's good to be able to talk with her because she's like me in the way that everybody tells her all of their problems and she probably rarely gets the chance to spout her own. So we just vent about our issues and compare our lives, and we're not too similar, but we're both, like 30, so we get it even if you don't.
While helping prepare the food for the season ticket holder event on Sunday I produced the names of the shows every other song playing on the Pandora Radio had been used in. Ryan suggested I use that space in my brain for more useful things. We close Hercules in about two weeks. It's been six consecutive, and at times overlapping shows since June. Mom said today that my kindergarten teacher used to like to tell her that she believed "Lucy would probably only ever be happy if she could split herself into three or more separate people so she could do everything at once," and in a way that's exactly what I've been doing. But now there's only one day a week where I'm not just me, so we're coming down to about a Lucy and a half, and soon it will be just me. It's the first time in four months or so that I don't have my nights spoken for, so I've been sewing, and cleaning, and picking at my skin, and I've been needing more and more pillows to sleep with. I know I should take all this extra time to "relax" and "take a break" and have "time to myself" but frankly I don't like that. With the exception of the occasional opportunity to sing at the top of my lungs and walk around the house almost abandoning all modesty due to the fact that I'm the only one home, I've got more than enough opportunity to allow unnecessarily harmful thoughts about myself enter the equation. But I guess it is necessary, in a way. Now I've really got nobody's standards to meet but my own, and that will make me stronger, and that will force me to create more on my own terms. And I'll have to and am having to deal with not constantly being surrounded by the people that make me feel the most at home and less like I'm the only one in the world who's ever felt the way I do. But I'll end up dealing with that just fine, because I've always been able to work with separation anxiety. My methods might not be the best because I usually just end up shutting everybody out. I'll end up telling myself that I'm the only person I can relate to because I'm the only person I'll allow myself to be around. But then again assuming all of this could just be setting myself up for failure. Maybe I'll do just the opposite. Maybe I'll change my recurring pattern. You never know.
This Disneyland vacation couldn't come sooner. 20 days and counting.
