Morphing the Roots

Day 3

Got into a big fight with one of my best friends and her family. Doesn’t really help with the whole “new me” thing. We fought about everything from our friendship to the drugs and alcohol and sex and violence. They just don’t understand and I guess I don’t understand them. So, I ended up walking away from it all and lost a friend. We’re no longer allowed to talk to each other nor are we allowed to associate through other friends. 

Let me clarify things, I am not the one in trouble. I am the one who was put on the spot for someone else’s problems and I don’t like being put on the spot for anything. Yes, I have done some horrible things with drugs, alcohol, and violence, but many people don’t know that. 

I usually like it when people know as little about me as possible, but now-a-days, I have nobody to talk to about what’s going on with me. I haven’t done anything bad in a while, and I don’t intend to start up again. Unfortunately, things come up and I live in a place where you do what you need to do to keep a certain group of people your friends otherwise, they become your enemies. And they’re not the mercy giving type of enemies…

Day 2

I realized that the beginning of any declaration should consist of a specific goal and rules to achieve that specific goal. Seeing as though I cannot predict the future and I cannot be 100 percent sure that I’ll want the same thing from now to a year later. So, I should start small with simple little tasks to get the momentum of the whole mission going. Here it is, the starting line of my project:

Organization.

I’m a clutter cat. I don’t put my clothes back on the hanger after I yank it out of the closet indecisively choosing what I want to wear. I get too lazy to throw away trash (scraps of paper or food wrappers). I never make my bed. I have no idea where most of my things are. I just find whatever is visible on my floor. It’s filthy. I’m hoping that cleaning the clutter of my room will symbolically represent my cleansing of mind. Who knows, it might be refreshing to see space and actually walk around my room without getting stabbed by random objects or tripping over them as well. 

Let’s see if I can keep my room clean for the rest of the week that I’m home. I fly back for school January 3rd, so we’ll see how this plays out.

Day 1

I have 365 days to turn my life around. A full year to change my story. I am, as of right now, completely for the whole “change” thing, but I am one of those people that can tell you how completely unrealistic the goal always seems to be around the second week. I’m determined to do this. If I stop or even hinder the slightest bit, just send me some horribly rude words that will make me want to prove you wrong. I’m like that, a competitor and a bet-maker. I can’t stand people thinking so little of me. But this 365 day thing, its not for anyone or everyone. It’s for me. 

See, I went to this class in which this church provided for people like me: strugglers, people who need healing. I won’t lie, I’m not the most religious person in the bunch, but I felt like I needed to go. I went and one of the lessons included looking into the mirror and seeing God’s love in yourself. I didn’t cry the entire first day, so naturally I didn’t think much of this. But, I looked in that mirror, and at first, I my visage. Completely normal adolescence staring straight back at me, screwed up skin, wild curly hair, so on and on. Then, I started to look past the physicality, and I saw what I never thought I would ever see in me. I saw the girl I had always hated, the person I never thought I’d ever become. I mean, I’d been through some pretty rough shit growing older, but never once did I think my past would haunt me. Go figure, the past haunted me like my shadow. I never noticed it until someone pointed it out. 

So, this is my declaration to change. I hated that horrible, selfish bitch I saw with battle scars etched all over [metaphorically speaking]. I want to show my past that it couldn’t negatively affect my future. I am taking the next 365 days to change everything - or at least most things. 

For public warnings, this is not an “Eat.Pray.Love” epiphany. This is a seventeen year old girl’s attempt to make right all the wrongs in her life and the challenge to fix all parts broken.