28.09.2002 | 5:56 p.m.
epiphany is more than just a word.

A few days ago,I told Monica how no one really understands why my birthday is going to be a big deal to me this year. I usually have un-special birthdays - they're not crappy,but they're never really exciting - but this year I really really want my birthday to be...well,good,at least. A few months ago, I never thought I would live to see 19. And now, there's this non-chalance when I say 'Oh,yeah,I'm going to turn 19 in 2 months.' And it feels incredible.

I came to this realisation a few days ago that nothing really matters. Everything is important and inconsequent and malleable. Sure it's still a fairly existential point of view,but that doesn't neccessarily have to be a depressing thing. Ernest Hemingway might have killed himself for it;it doesn't mean I have to. Life is beautiful if you want it to be. Cheesy? It doesn't matter.

I know all of this sounds insane and senseless and possibly even pretentious,but it's important to me. I've realised - and this might sound overly simplistic but I had to see it for myself - that I used to beat myself over everything. But that is going to stop. It feels to me like life is just a constant series of waves and eventually, they all crash to shore. Everything ends. And I know that's a depressing way to look at things, but for some reason, I view it in the most positive way possible. Everytime I'm depressed, I can take solace in knowing that it's transitory. Just like happiness probably is.

It's like a light bulb suddenly went off in my head when it hit me that I was digging my own grave, being fully aware of it but not accepting it, and that my main obstacle was looking at it as "This isn't my fault. I can't help it." But FUCK. I can and I have. Granted I'm not "cured" and I never will be, but God, which person on earth doesn't have their fair share of issues or bouts of depression? I can't characterise my life this way anymore; depression doesn't dictate what my life, or anyone's life is about.

I kicked myself in the teeth for the way I felt about everything: my body, my intelligence, my physical appearance, the sexual assault, food, movies, music, my family,my friends, love, sex, alcohol, drugs....everything. No matter what I felt, it was wrong. But I never did anything about it. Someone wonderful told me more than once, and I paraphrase, that someday I would get past all of this, and when I looked back, I wouldn't think of myself as 'stupid' but would say, 'wow, that was difficult.' And yes, that is how I feel right now. And everytime I have a bad dream or a flashback or one of those days where I can't face the world, I think 'Yes. This is valid. It makes sense that I felt that way. But it'll end. This is going to end.'

I guess I have that whole Carpe Diem thing going for me right now too. But I still want a lot of things I don't have and there are still a lot of things I don't have the guts to do. But I guess I had my epiphanic moment and that's only the starting point. And that's pretty fucking exciting to me.

I am myself again,for the most part. I can make stupid jokes again and write stupid nothings and allow myself to feel and revel and hurt. I don't have to spend my energy being someone else, saying things that someone else would say, doing things someone else would do.

I will admit that this entry is basically an altered version of an e-mail I wrote a few minutes ago. Not that that really matters;I'd just feel really guilty if I didn't mention it.

Over and out,people. It's time to start living again.

deja vu? | jamais vu?