I don't know what I was thinking when I started a blog of all things... writing is the one thing I want to get away from. Its the label everyone pastes on me, like its highlighted on my forehead like the logo on a can of diced tomatoes. I dont want to be seen as anything but who I am... even "writer" is screaming something I dont want to say. But write I continue to do, regardless. Ughk.
My name is not really Violet nor is my last name McDevitt, but I love the color purple and am not against changing my last name to a Scottish alternative, so Im going along with it all. I guess my real name is probably a bad thing to put on a free-to-the-world's-eyes website blog-thing so Id rather not let my business be known by the real flesh and blood people who know me in life. But to be totally honest with you, whoever "you" are, I wish I could be as real as I can be under a pseudonym in real life, with my real name.
The world is covered with snow in the part of the world I unfortunately call my current residence. And when I say covered, I mean """"COVERED""""; not a sheet, not a coverlet, but a full-to-the-seams down comforter. I do not like the snow... but I can tolerate it, for awhile. If God would just go ahead and make an international decree that the world-wide climate cannot reside below 70 degrees I would be thrilled, but that wont happen ANYtime soon. So Im going to have to live with it.
I dont really believe that my life is anything out of the ordinary. I left home at age of 18, but Im not the only one who has done that sort of thing. Its probably actually quite normal for an 18 year old girl to up and out her home at that age. Time to be a grown-up.
I dont really think I have anything especially interesting to say, you know? But there are so many people who believe differently than me on that particular subject and are probably ecstatic that Ive actually started this blog in the first place. Im not a pessimist, but Im a realist, and reality says that Im just not very interesting. Im just a regular girl, with regular problems, just trying to get along with this gift/curse we've all been given called life. Life doesnt particularily love me at the moment- Im sure we've all been here one time or another.
Chaos, thats pretty much what describes my life- past, present and future. Ive been told to my face that I bring chaos into other people's lives, their homes. Im the bearer of chaos; or, rather, Chaos is the bearer of me. "It's peaceful when your not around, you bring the trouble in." Who says that to someone? My mom told me that when I was fifteen or sixteen. I wanted attention, and negative attention was the only attention I knew about, so I went for it. I wasnt exactly a bad kid, but I wasnt exactly a good one, either. To tell you the truth, Im afraid of positive attention. I dont know what to do with it. I cant feel it. Its a weird experience.
Chaos and Control rule my life. I admit that. It sounds like an oxymoron but its true; atleast in my life it is. I hate having things in the black and white because its easy, then, to see when Im wrong and right... when Im hiding and when Im telling the truth. But yet I love the black and white, because then I have a reason for anything and everything, and I can label things, and I can label myself. I can separate myself and my feelings into boxes and place them where and when I want to. Its easy, its safe. But its confusing, and chaotic at the same time. And it hurts me, but its comfortable. Makes no sense, right? Or does it... I dont even know.
Ive lived like this for all of my life. Completely out of control but wanting to be in control, Hating being controlled but controlling myself and the people around me, loving the chaos but craving peace. Sounds crazy, insanity at it's best, and I wouldnt disagree.
To tell you the truth, I think Im getting tired of it. I know Im getting tired of it. My arms are sore from fighting off people and feelings and emotions and experiences. I dont know why I do it anymore, I dont know what made me start. I want to know, then again, I dont at the same time. I dont want to feel hurt or be hurt any more then I am already now, and I will shove away anyone or anything that has the potential to cause pain, even if its the smallest percentage. Vulnerability is a curse, and being plastic seems to be the only cure. For now.
But now that Im getting sick of the mask and sick of the labels, Im wondering who the person is underneath all of the things I have been hiding myself behind. I look at someone new and the first thing that comes out out of me are the protest signs I hang around my neck- : "Im outgoing, always cheerful", "I am a writer", "I am Spanish", "I love the color purple", "Im obsessed with New York City"... but in reality, between the lines Im screaming "I am a terrible friend, daughter and sister." "I am addicted to my image and agree with the major demographic of teen girls and think I am ugly.", "I grew up poor.", "I was abused; psycologically, mentally, and physically." and even "I have an obsessive personality and just want to be in the middle of everyone's attention." The truth is disgusting, and I realize now that the little, stupid "I am a writer" is never going to cover "Im a terrible friend." I dont even know if this statement is true... but regardless if it is or not, its too strong to fight with such a superficial label. Its a part of who I am, that I cant fight or change, no matter what my heritage, favorite color, or city of choice is. Ughk!
Now that I have come to this realization, I feel very overwhelmed with shame that I could do such a thing to myself and to the people around me. I trick myself into thinking I hate people who are fake, scoff at the plastics on tv and in the movies who are shining and happy when in reality their life is falling apart; Even the everyday people around me bring smiles to the table when they feel like crying, and the words "I'm fine" seem to be the marketing scheme of 2010. But all in all, I am just like them, and I hate it. I hate it. I have no ability or desire to let anyone in to know the real me, not even my own self... and that very understanding blows up the foundation of the "Ive got it all taken care of" persona I declare to the world that I have. The Chaos and the Control have officially taken over, and me, Violet, am lost in the noise. In the desire and pursuit of being in control, the actual flesh and blood, tears and smiles human being has been shut into a cage of both confusion and regret. Im tired of being plastic. Im tired of the chaos. But I still love it... and that just doesnt make sense.