In my almost 28 years of life– Ii have been responsible for doing and saying some horrible and hurtful things. Although most were not fueled by malc-ontempt. , all came with a cost at someone else’s expense. And despite not meaning to harm another– I’ve come to realize, thanks to therapy and an honest fiance, that it is my selfish narcissism that is the root cause. And I agree. It’s so fascinating t(slash frustrating)o live such a dichotomous life. I am the selfless, fun-loving goof ball and at the same time a manipulative bitch. I’m not a text book bipolar, but definitely have black and white tendencies. In terms of definition– good luck trying to put my disorders in a written format. I am enigmatic, inscrutable and undefinable– and yet not extraordinary or special. In all sincerity, I am just a fucked up, privileged (despite not accepting it), pretty smart (not as much as she thinks), neurotic (woody allen style) twenty something white girl. People have it way more difficult than myself…. and I hate that I get so down on and go to a doctor for crazy pills. I loathe that. I should and could be stronger. But, in reality I am weak. I succumbed to vices… or one: vodka. And am suffering greatly and irreparably from the ill effects– vision, liver, relationship and life. I have no one to blame but myself. Does that alter anything? No. But, realizing the problem and accepting it is a step to recovery. I cannot recover everything, but… I can salvage a lot more precious than vision or health. Truly. My fiance called me a wreetched narcissitic asshole and I was irate at the depravity and menacing tone– I thought she could not possibly mean to scorch and smelt me like ore. Turns out she was right, though. For all my positive attributes, there are a million times more faults and flaws. Nothing could make that more apparent than seeing my father so crestfallen– blaming himself more than likely and hurting to see his little prodigy suffer. Or to see my Mom take me to a therapist appointment this afternoon, telling me she smelled alcohol on me, clearly crushed and STILL takes me to buy a Subway sandwich. I also get to deal with that I had my 5th seizure this week…. All from drinking– I’m not a genetic epileptic. I am always forthcoming about my struggles– I’m an open book. I’ve dealt with an eating disorder that almost killed me, cutting issues that almost killed me and drinking that probably will kill me. I’m very formally indoctrinated in the “what the fuck is wrong with me?” lifestyle. And you wonder why and how the co-valedictorian from a big school who excelled at everything (but math) fell this hard to become a shell of the kid I was. I have no answer I can only surmise it’s because I put too many expectations on myself– my own doing. Hence my narcissism– I think or thought I was special. But, really– I’m surrounded by people way more worthy of that title or recognition than myself. I have royally fucked up my life and future– and yet I have so many around who strive to formulate a path towards my future and new beginning. I am lucky and I will forever regret I don’t tell those integrated in this madness enough. I love you.
And as an addendum or a PS of sorts– I know how to use big words, made good grades and was technically intelligent…. I’ve grown to realize that those qualities mean nothing when you make stupid decisions like myself. Learned that lesson a little too late.