My name is Victoria Paige. I have many stories. We all do. Don't give up on yours.
I have a lot of feelings. Decently talented but painfully introverted. Wholly redeemed.
I dreamed about you last night. I wonder if you’ll see this? Hm. Did you know I saved every single thing you said to me? The good and the bad? When you let me need you, and when you scoffed at my anorexia for the world to see? Anyway, that doesn’t matter now. In the dream we ran into each other out somewhere. We talked. We smiled. Life. College. We’re both doing okay. The past was gone. And then we walked away. It was nice. It felt good. I felt happy and relieved. I don’t know if it would happen that way, but now I know I’ve forgiven it all. It’s not forgotten but it’s let go. And that’s a fantastic feeling.
At this point, all I can do is try to keep my mouth shut and ask God to teach me how to forgive, every second of every day in this house.
Though I try to forgive, I don’t think my brother and I are going to be ~buds~ any time soon. I’m so hurt and angry, there’s been no confrontation of wrongs, his lying is completely out of control. I fear with each word I say to him that the next will be something vindictive or profane. Everything he’s done bites me: lying about our family, hurting my friends, making up struggles that he doesn’t have to make people pity him - it all cuts into me like a knife. I’m walking on eggshells trying not to lash out.
And I’m hurt and bewildered that my parents choose to let it all slide. I’m craving confrontation and closure (even if there is no apology), and I’m getting nothing. It’s really screwing me up. I was so upset on Saturday that I had a near panic attack and cried most of the morning. It’s so hard to function like this.
All I can do anymore is give it to Jesus. I need it taken from me; I need to trust that God will deal with it in his way. I need my life cleansed from this passive-aggression that I keep clinging to as my only way to express my anger. I need to figure out how to let it go, because he may not give a damn about how he’s affecting this family, but I know if I keep holding on, it’s going to poison me to death.
Ugh I’m having one of my musical identity crises. I’ve had them before, and I always pull out of them, but only if I don’t think too hard. Because I’ve been away from any piano for a week now but I don’t miss it. I haven’t listened to music much. I don’t miss it. This wouldn’t be a big deal except that piano is What I’m Going With For The Next Four Years and music in general is What I’m Doing With My Life so I start wondering if this is the direction I really want to go at all and what if I’m wrong about everything and it stinks
I just really need to get back home to a piano for a tough practice so I can set myself straight. That’s all.
I guess I can talk now about some things I’ve been learning. I feel like I’ve grown a lot. I feel that’s important. I’m learning to stop apologizing for being who I am. I won’t say I’m sorry for being naive, or optimistic, or mature, or sensible, or for throwing my whole heart into everything, or for getting excited or for knowing things. I used to be so ashamed to be who I wanted to. I thought I had to plead forgiveness from the world for being myself. And I don’t anymore. It’s taken a long time to get here. I respect myself so much more, and other people do as well. I’m comforted in knowing that these changes have happened, because something that used to keep me up at night about going away was that I’d get out in the world and lose sight of myself and all I want to be. Now I don’t feel that’s such a danger anymore, and I couldn’t be more grateful.
Running out of hours to spend
Running out of breaks to bend
to be alright
Running out of night and day
Running out of ways to say
tonight’s the night
Running out of hope to give
Running out like sand in sieve
to hold and fight
Running out of heart and hand
Running out of strength to stand
what may and might
Running out of breaths above
But never running out of love
please come back home
Running out of smiles of new
But never running out on you
just come back home
Running out of time to speak
Running out
You are so much more than what meets the eye. Even your own eye. Don’t let anyone — especially yourself — sell you short like that. You’re more than the two or three hobbies you have, or the one thing you spend all your money on, or the two or three skills you truly excel at, or the fun things that suck up your time, or what you’re majoring in. You’re more than the reasons people like you and the reasons they might not. There is more to you than your yearbook page or your obituary. Don’t insist you’re worthless. You’re a whole human being and that’s worth a whole lot.
I hate that a million tragic events are happening right now. I hate that a million more tragedies go on every week that we’ll never know about. I hate that politics are used to drive shootings like a stake between us instead of letting us come together. I hate that it’s so hard to take care of other people and still take care of oneself. I hate that we say you have to have financial means in order to love. I hate wondering when it’ll be my city on the news. I hate that it takes videos of explosions and anthems at hockey games to bring us to tears. What I hate maybe most of all is that people are dying and the thing we’re sitting in the living room yelling about is how we’re paying for college. I don’t know if anyone’s tracking with me here but it just seems like everything is madness.
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