Thursday, June 27, 2013

Mistakes is a part of who I am.
Who I am and who I appear to be; the two are very different, yet they are me. Strange as it may seem, it’s true. The two are named the same but they have little to nothing in common; the two have different views on the world and they come out at anytime. The mistakes I build up have created another personality.
My mistakes make me who I am, for each step, there are a billion more I can take, but only one path will take me to the place I want to call tomorrow, which in my case, I want to be going the right way, the way that I can look back at and feel proud of. I’m not perfect so I know I will make mistakes, that’s the risk of being a human in this selfish world. Humans tend to want more for themselves than the person next to them. At times I will slack off like I do in class and I won’t realize it until someone slaps me with the cold hard truth, but I would work my butt off to fix it. I don’t want my mistakes overpowering my life, my mistakes are here to slap my hand to show I could become something, to become someone I’m proud of. My flaws will try to push me to make mistakes as well but I will have to have a battle within myself as to not cave in, to remain on this path towards my future.
Not just my mistakes, but those around me have a big affect on my views on life, but in a way I am learning through their events. Like my mother was addicted to her medication and alcohol, but when she was on the right path she was perfect, but even that doesn't exist. I have barely any memories of her. I can't remember clearly without missing pieces other than the last time I saw her alive. As you already know she overdosed on her meds which made her forget things. Since that day I avoid taking any type of medication, because I have an addictive personality thanks to her (and my family’s genetics). Alcohol abused my mother and made her betray her role of being the mother she wanted to be. Because I saw that I never want to even touch alcohol but in a way I do want to see why. Why did she do so much for a liquid that slowly killed the mother I loved, the mother I needed? With the thought of being an addict I remember the reason why I will not do that, because I want to be proud of myself, I would never want my family to go through my Hell all over again. It wasn't as bad as I’m explaining, its was hell because most kids only worry about what they might have for dinner, while here I was worrying if I was going to find my mom drunk, or even dead. Even when she had her good sober years I still sacrificed doing normal kid things so I could watch over her like a helpless little angel that I was painted out to be.
Or evens my father’s mistakes, I will not be fooled. He thought just maybe she would get better if he stayed, or that she would get worse if he finally let her go. My dad who I love to this day, never wanted to risk losing my sister and I, if he had left. His fear that my mother would have taken custody of us and we would be in Hell if she never got help, since she failed many times after rehabs. He not only fooled himself that he could help, he slowly decreased his happiness, (I’m only guessing) he could still be living in a house, or have more friends, but now the main person he talks to is me and our loving dog. I hope I won’t follow my parents mistakes but I do hope to be like them, my father and mother are (were) both caring, hilarious, hard working people. I wish to grow up with their characteristics, not their little flaws because I love the two, but I need to be myself and make my own mistakes, hopefully I won’t relive theirs
My mistake that I have not yet “saved” myself from, is causing people to overlook me. I let people take anything from me, so I guess I’m labeled as a pushover. Which is funny because I am the leader in my group, and I can defend myself from any type of nonsense they throw at me. I just don’t like disappointing people, so I will give up a little of my happiness just to see them smile. My heart ache when I see other cry, I feel helpless as I just ask what's wrong. Yet many people still come to me for advice. In person ,I don’t know how to word things so it would be effective, but over a message I can make people feel much better. I am a protector of certain friends because I know how easily my friends can break emotionally, and certainly are capable of so many things that could ruin their life. As their friend I want them happy, to keep them safe, but at times I might fail, that doesn't mean I shouldn't try my best. So in a way, I am a queen, a knight, a joker, a servant and even a villager all at the same time in my little kingdom I call my mind.
You might be wondering why I mention earlier that I have two personality, no that doesn't mean I have a split personality... It just means in public or to certain humans I may act very differently then I would with people I come to love. With people I care about tends to see the real me, not the one I made to hide myself from pain... The outside me, is the label I tend to get when I am in the room, people tend to mark her as the sweet little angel, who don’t care what others think about her. Ha, I am not angel, but I am not entirely demon-like either, I’m just a short tempered teenager who likes to observe other’s action or even their choice of words, before speaking. Yes I can be sweet but generally friends who are lot closer to me has taste my the sour pain, from my words or even a slap, well it just means they are getting to the point where  we play  like a brothers, argue likes sisters. Also people think I don’t care about what they think, in fact I scare other away, by being weird because I don’t want to hear their thought. People with the same point of view will jump over the fence that I hide behind to talk to since they may like me for who I am.
If I set my mind to it, I can become anyone I desire to be. Who am I and who I appear be are two different things, yet the share one thing in common that I play a big part of both roles. Like I mention mistakes builds me up, and the struggle made me stronger. I don’t think I will look back and rue my decisions,at least for this moment in time. I am the one the only, Erica , and no one can tell me who I am, only I can share my stories because I am the only one living this strange life.

No comments:

Post a Comment