Thursday, April 28, 2011

Future Reference

Sometimes, writing is the best therapy for me.

In the coming weeks, I'm probably going to be writing about a lot of stuff that's deeply personal. Not like a list of my sexual partners or anything obscene, obviously, but a lot of stuff that I'm still figuring out in therapy and in my head.

I need you, my readers, to remember a few things as these things come forward.

First and foremost, these are my opinions, my memories and my thoughts. They are not perfect. They are flawed and skewed; filtered through the foggy lens of childhood; aged and cracked with time. They will not be rational, they may not make sense, and if you were there for some of them, you may not agree with my interpretation. All of our memories and interpretations are fallible, yours and mine.

But they are real, for me. What happened, what I felt in my moments of memory, they are as real as anyone's memories of the past. They are valid. And they are mine. I make no apology for my thoughts. They are what they are, and nothing can change the way I have felt about certain things, especially when those feelings are associated with memories and idea who define who I am today.

I am sorry if some of these things upset you. (This is particularly aimed at my parents.) What happened, happened, and now I must shake off the mantle of the dusty past in order to claim my bright and shiny future. I cannot move ahead without confronting the demons that exist. Because we all have demons. Most of mine come in two forms: a childhood of being different and an adulthood of constant responsibility.

I am not crying for pity. I do not write for attention, nor pats on the head (which is damnably condescending, anyways, and I'll kick your condescending ass before I let you pat me on the head). I write for release. There will be drafts that don't see the light of the Internet. There will be things that I say that might make you think me stupid and insecure. But I can't let your opinions of me rule my life.

Today, I claim my birthright. I claim myself.

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