Reflection from December 4th, 2011 @ Age 30
RE: WHEN THERE IS **NOTHING** ELSE—YOU WOULD *RATHER* BE ;oD
I’ve been so afraid to keep going. I haven’t worked on the book for 16 days now—and I have been thinking about it, and I know exactly why. I am scared to death to read what I have written from 2004 on. To death—I am. It’s horrible, and you know how I know why? Because Rachel was talking about her ultrasound for Bryce, as in when I was dating Damien, as in when I was not speaking with my parents, as in when I was smoking weed all the time, as in when I was being sexually promiscuous—albeit just with Damien, but all the same, I am terrified of what is about to come. I don’t know how I’m going to live through it—reliving through it.
Some girl is yelling at her dog outside my window. Anyways…
I was sitting here fuming about stupid Lainey—stupid Lainey and her adorable shearling duck boots, stupid Lainey with her North Face jacket, stupid Lainey with her fucking 20 pound weight loss which she claims she did nothing to lose—apparently, it just fell right the fuck off of her. Anyways, stupid Lainey and all her money, stupid Lainey with her “healthy little nest egg,” stupid Lainey fucking my brother over, stupid Lainey with her bitchy self-righteous self. Stupid Lainey with her absolute inability to overcome her inner demons—stupid Lainey…
And then I got to thinking…
I was sitting here fuming tonight, searching and searching online for those motherfucking shearling boots, when I realized: what am I doing here? Why am I letting this fucking bitch distract me from what it is I am trying to do? Why am I letting her throw me off guard from protecting perhaps, the most precious thing I was put on this Earth to do? What the fuck am I doing here—fuming about Lainey and her money, allowing her to stop me from doing exactly what she is unable to do? Lainey, the poor bitch, is fundamentally incapable of facing the demons inside her that for so long have haunted her from her very core. I too am afraid of mine, my own evil demons—but I am capable of facing them, unlike that girl. I am able to face them. I will—face them. And I will be all the better off when I do. But I suppose, at the very least, I can now understand even if just slightly—what it feels like, for her to be placed in such a situation filled with fear.
Lainey can go out and buy all the boots she wants, all the North Face jackets, all the new purses, all the whatever the fuck she wants. But she cannot do what I can—she is not even capable; and for that alone, I feel more sorry for her than I ever have before. For that, I feel all the more empowered to face my own demons. So, in a way, she has helped me in the most fundamental of ways. She has shown me exactly—who I don’t want to be, so filled with fear, always running to money for never ending distraction. As I have told Adam, so many times, we are lucky—so very much, that we do not have much money right now. Money leads so easily, so much to distraction, and how could I possibly sit down and concentrate as much as is needed, to face my demons—when money could buy me such comfort in this world?
I don’t know if I would be strong enough, not at this point—to overcome the evil that money can do. It takes over the soul, at the very moment you stop looking—it ropes you in, fools and deceives you, and allows you just enough room to hang yourself from those high, high shiny rafters. Upon the pillars of deception, it will show you this glittery world—and fucking rape your very being, precisely when you fall into that fake abyss.
I will continue my outlining, the outlining for my book—tonight and consistently throughout the next few months. I will finish this bitch of a book! I will I so very much tell you, from nothing else but the very bottom of my heart.