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i'm not here - this isn't happening - last entry / next entry - LOOK AT ME - 122? | 12.15.02 10:52 pmIt hasn't really sunk in yet that although R is going skiing tomorrow, I still have to work, and therefore I should go to bed. Whatever. This is my last week at the diner. I got a new job. I start January 13. I'm not all that thrilled, although I've been told that I should be. I've been keeping track of my panic attacks. I've had a few more since I last wrote. I get them about once a week. I started seeing a therapist last week, hopefully that will help. Basically, I'm confused about what I want to do with my life and that creates a gray cloud over my entire life. I want, and I have wanted for most of my life, to be a star. I want to act, sing, model, all of it. My parents don't think I can do it, so I believe I can't. I have never believed it. R pointed out to me that I have been able to accomplish everything I have set out to do. I decided to lose weight, and I did. I didn't like my job, so I got a new one. I wanted to build a model of the Globe, and I did. When I've wanted something enough, I've done it. I want to be a star, MORE THAN LIFE ITSELF. Clearly. Or else I wouldn't be so willing to kill myself over it. Yeah, I can become an architect. I can take the GMAT. I can become an actuary. I can do all those things, and I'm sure I would be good at whatever I chose, but I WANT to be a star. I want to entertain. I want to sing and dance and perform in front of the world. I told my parents the other day that I still wanted to be a star, and my mom said something like, "Well, yeah, I suppose you could be a star on a small stage. What kind of acting can you do in your area?" No, mom. I mean, A STAR. Think BIGGER. I'm still angry with her for not sending in my resume to agencies when I was younger. Still so bitter and resentful. She didn't believe in me. So now I don't believe in me either. She felt she had to PROTECT me. FROM WHAT? I think it's apparent that I am more vicious with myself than any critic would be. Clinging onto her pantleg. That's what she wanted. For the rest of my life. She even wanted me to move to Arizona when they did. I'll follow my parents anywhere, sure. Why not? Why have dreams of my own? I'll live at home for the rest of my life and do nothing. Because that's status quo. I don't need to do anything to get the approval of my parents. In fact, doing nothing is preferred. Don't stick out. Don't be different. Be from the same cookie cutter mold as everyone else, now. And you know, if you don't try, then you won't fail, so you'll be safe. Perfectly safe. Only thing is, now I'm empty. And I'm feeling it. And I want to purge it with vodka and sleeping pills. So messed up. Spending my life yelling out, "DON'T LOOK AT ME!" When really, all I've wanted is the opposite. LOOK AT ME.I'm on show. I want to perform for you. I want to entertain you. Let me. Listening to: Tori Amos
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