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2002-10-29 : 10:54 a.m.
A picture without a thousand words
Listening to: Everclear, So much for the after glow
Good gief, what is this I see everywhere? Diaryland trading cards? (*mad giggles*) Funny stuff... although I have to say mustangusmc is looking top speed in his uniform! But I'm a bit dissapointed in devallyk... I was hoping for a new pic with his new cropped- do. :) I don't know if I'm ever going to do one. I've been (get this) struggling with the notion of putting any pic's of me period up on this diary... my friends would laugh at this hardcore... (Shari, who is probably reading this- included.) Because... well aside from being a serious hamm... I can be a bit if an exhibitionist... and yet, the idea of putting up my own picture on this terrorizes me... ha! I live for the high of being in front of sold out theatre's and I can't get a damn pic up! ehhh? In some respect's this doesn't seem odd for one particular reason... I have this recurring fear of being judged by people who know me... even if it's positive... I could have a friend tell me, the performance was spectacular! And I just don't believe it... Any boy from my brother to my boyfriend can tell me I look beautiful... and I don't belive it. I could be butt naked with my lover, and he can compliment me on something as simple as the feel of my skin... yeah... I don't belive it. I do give the blushed thank you's... and quickly move on. But it always makes me feel uncomfortable... always. But put me in front of an art class with 100 people, and I have no issues with being the nude model... This was something I never quite noticed about myself, until I was... ehhhh... 17, I think... My friend Orlando... whom I love so desperately and I know would give me a kidney if he had to... after telling me I was so beautiful... asked me, "Why can't you accept a compliment?" "What are you talking about?" (I noticed myself feeling nervous at this point.) "You have problems with being complimented, don't you?" "No, I said thank you, didn't I? That shows, acceptance, if you will..." "Alex, you change, you back off... and change the subject... as if someone were telling you the complete opposite..." (Fuck, he was right... I do, I do that... I was stuck. I just simply hadn't thought about it really... as to why I felt so uncomfortable.) "ummm... I don't know..." "You don't belive it at all, do you? i mean, at all?" (At this point, my brain was just reeling with so many random thoughts... it was so true... I couln't even say thank you and even acknowledge a compliment until recently... I use to just ignore whatever was said and change the conversation... rude, I know.) I started crying. At that point, all I remember is Orlando telling me he loved me... Mmmm... I miss Orlando. He always told it like it was. No buffers. I grew up a lot with him around. At that point, I had begun to look at a lot of things in my life. How as a child... and for many years, my mother and invertantly her mother, had seriously destroyed my self perception... My grandmother was really a horrible mother. Thoughout the years and subtle investigative work... I've learned about my mother's up-bringing. And how her mother always called her fat, told her she was ugly, and would tell her she would have to work extra hard to be pretty... how once, when she was a child, eight... she went to my mother's elementary school and addressed the class, in front of her... to not give her any food or candy because she was fat... fucking bitch... Christ, if you could see my mother's child hood picture's, not only was she NOT obese... but chunky, would be an over statement... it blows my mind really... But subsequently... and I do belive unknowingly (to her) it seriously affected my mother. For years, she would make me do sit-ups, push-ups... whatever, since grade school... 5 years old and on... until I ran away from home in defiance... Every day... after coming home from school, for an hour... so I wouldn't "get fat"... so clothes could "fit me right". My mother didn't take me to balley or karate classes because I loved it... she forced me... so I would be doing something that was "excersizing"... and things like sweet treats... where restricted to twice a week... God I could go on... and it didn't help when my grandmother came to visit... she would gladly tell my mom... to "watch out"... she looks like she's getting chubby... all with me in the room... and once when I was about ten... I'll never forget it... the witch tapped me on the shoulder to share oh... such a fucking loving piece of advice... "you better be careful... you won't find a man to marry you some day, if you let yourself get fat." that was the day, I truely began to despise her. The "excersizing" didn't end until I ran away from home... and she took me to see a counselor... after a few seesions the counselor asked to see my mother... he.. he.. Let's just say, my mom took over the sessions from there. I definitely have gotten better about things. Especially with being aware of much of the source of the problem. But even at 25, it seems to bite me in the ass now and then. You see, the people I knew and knew me well, as a child... made me feel incapable of accepting a compliment as truth... as a kid, it just seemed like, if it didn't hurt, then it wasn't true... And even if I dismissed this as irrational thinking as I got older... it somehow stayed with me... almost dormant. So i almost find it funny... that putting up my picture on this diary web thing... would be an issue... who knew this still haunted me? Yeah, I know... except for maybe about three people who read this... I don't really "know" anyone personally who does... But I write, as I would write in my books... with no restictions or edits. This is essentially me. And I've never had a diary... that in essence, talked back before! So this has become quite personal, strangely personal. So what if any feedback did come from it... bad or good? Or worse, no comment at all. This bother's me. it bother's me, that something so trivial... bothers me.
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