Thursday, June 11, 2009
She's Falling Apart - Confessions, Rage, Perfection
I saw my grades yesterday.
It was symbolic, I suppose. Three B's and C. Mediocre, at best, which is as good as failing, for me. I'm not stupid by any means. There is a certain cockiness to me that lets me believe the idea that I'm better than my peers in most ways. So to have the hard evidence in my hand that I did not get anything exceptional in school, and worse than that, I got something MEDIOCRE, was enough to put me into tears.
B's and C's are not the grades of someone you would want to operate on you. B's and C's don't get you scholarships or Ivy Leagues.
They were symbolic. Symbolic of everything in my life that's failing. My inability to clean my room or get rid of things. The struggle I have to even put away my laundry and change the habits of slacking. My inability to follow through on ANYTHING.
And also my weight. I didn't think I was this bad. I mean, about my weight. But after I saw those, to me it was evidence of how worthless I am. It was like, I saw those, and it made sense, because I don't even have control of my body, how could I have control of my brain? How could I be expected to be anything but mediocre?
I have the ability to be beautiful, I think. But I'm not, because I don't care enough to follow through. I have the ability to write, but I don't finish. I have the ability to get straight A's...but I just don't do it.
I don't know why I don't.
I just don't.
My sisters have always been prettier than me. And the middle one is smarter. I've always been the fat one. The failure. Everyone on my father's side is successful in some way. My younger cousin was a gymnast who was set for the Olympics but who's parents pulled her out because they didnt' have the dedication for it. My uncle makes nearly a mil a year. My second cousin (my father's cousin) is a producer who's currently doing a show on USA. I can't give away his name, because I don't want that traced back to me XD! But still, I mean...how the fuck do you live up to that?
I know a lot of it is my past.
I was kidnapped by my mom and her boyfriend. Her boyfriend who later got indicted for "Improper Acts with a Minor" so I'm sure you can imagine what happened then. I was comforted with food at ten at night, and yelled at if I didn't finish my large fries from McDonalds. My mom didn't want me to go to school...she wanted to push for me to keep with the acting and modelling, while feeding me all the time. When I was in fourth grade, we went to an audition, and i had just started gaining weight. The producer ripped me apart. He said when he saw my headshots, I was a pretty "awkward, skinny little thing", and now I looked like the poster child for the obesity institute. When I was in fifth grade, the button snapped off my pants during recess, and I stopped playing with the other kids then.
Everything went down hill from there. And looking at pictures of myself, even when I was at my "skinniest" since I've been a late teen/adult, of about 135 or something, I was still so FAT. Sickeningly so.
And ever since that day my mom took me from school, I've gotten worse and worse with grades and weight.
My senior year I fell apart. A friend died, my girl left me, and I was in the full throes of a meth addiction. I tried so hard to get clean, but then they found his body, and I fell apart. When I did get clean, all the weight came back.
My grades never got better. I never got better.
Just mediocre. The girl who used to be slated to be published, the one who was always brilliant...mediocre.
Ugly. Mediocre. Imperfect.
And I realized I can't be that anymore.
I will be perfect. No matter how much it kills me.
B's are not good. C's are suicide worthy. They're disgusting.
A's are the only acceptable grades. And they're still not GOOD unless my GPA is a 3.8 minimum. My weight is unacceptable. 103 is the highest I should ever allow myself to go, and I have 50 pounds left until I'm there. 50 pounds to lose, with about 45 already lost.
And I can't look at myself ever again and say "halfway is good enough". Halfway is never good enough. Never again.
The only thing that's "good enough" is the goal. The only thing better than good enough is going over my aim.
Because the only acceptable norm is perfection.
And when I get perfect, I will strive to a higher level of it. So on, and so on.
I will see bones. I will see A's. I will see success.
Because so long as I am at the middle - so long as I keep stopping at "good enough", I will never be great. I will always look at my grades and see how worthless and normal I am. I will always look in the mirror and see the evidence of my past.
There are two people living on my body. The person I was, and the person I want to be. The person I want to be is drowning under the mass of my past, and the only way to free her is to peel the layers away inch by inch, and press her bony frame against my cage of skin.
And I will.
And I will have perfect grades.
And I will be perfect.
That's all that matters.