Do you have Prince George in a can?
The Middle
by Jimmy Eat World
Hey, don’t write yourself off yet
It’s only in your head
You feel left out or looked down on
Just try your best, try everything you can
And don’t you worry what they tell themselves
When you’re away
It just takes some time, little girl
You’re in the middle of the ride
Everything, everything will be just fine
Everything, everything will be all right, all right
Hey, you know they’re all the same
You know you’re doing better on your own
So don’t buy in, live right now
Yeah, just be yourself
It doesn’t matter if that’s good enough for someone else
It just takes some time, little girl
You’re in the middle of the ride
Everything, everything will be just fine
Everything, everything will be all right, all right
It just takes some time, little girl
You’re in the middle of the ride
Everything, everything will be just fine
Everything, everything will be all right, all right
Hey, don’t write yourself off yet
It’s only in your head
You feel left out or looked down on
Just do your best, do everything you can
And don’t you worry what the bitter hearts are gonna say
It just takes some time, little girl
You’re in the middle of the ride
Everything, everything will be just fine
Everything, everything will be all right, all right
It just takes some time, little girl
You’re in the middle of the ride
Everything, everything will be just fine
Everything, everything will be all right, all right
self-esteem
self-esteem: I don’t have it.
But we knew that.
Something someone “said” online the other day, though, reminded me of the most ironic part of my mother’s beating my self-esteem into the ground.
She used to make fun of me, for being identified at school as “gifted”.
“Gifted, shmifted. She has no common sense and neither do her little gifted friends.” Ha, common sense I believe is learned, and I had no role models that had any.
She used to give my brother prizes for getting Bs. “oh you don’t need any of that, you’re doing fine.”
Yeah, right. I’m doing JUST FUCKING FINE. Thanks mom.
(As a matter of fact, just the other day she claimed she did a good job with us. I tried to set her right. But, just like everyone else I try to talk to, I don’t think she heard me)
(btw in case you’re wondering, the post “irony” referred to some guy who proved my point, on his blog, after I commented.)
It’s raining
My back has been tweaked for a week now. I had the flu for two days and stayed home from work. I’m depressed. I tried to go to a school social event last night but I didn’t see anyone I knew and it was too crowded so I just walked the mall and then left. That made me more depressed. Today my back hurts more, my stomach doesn’t seem right, and it’s raining.
going back to bed
patterns
It feels whiny to go on about things that happened to me in the 60s and 70s. But the way life is now seems directly related to things that happened back then, some I didn’t even know about.
An example not even about me: in the last few years I found out my dad was living (with his first family, wife and kids) on the same lot as his parents, when he got involved with my mom. Now, my brother lives with my mom, along with his girlfriend, and the two children that she is raising. These four people all live with my mom in a two bedroom, one bathroom house.
My own problem is that I have no connection to anyone in my family, to anyone I knew from grade school, high school, college, or any of my two dozen jobs, or my boyfriend’s family. This because my mom cut off connections with my dad’s family because she was ashamed about the circumstances of my birth, she cut off connections with her own family (except her mother) because she was ashamed that she’d married a wife beater, she could have no friends over because we never knew when he’d come home stinkin’ drunk, and we could have no friends over for the same reason.
I spent ten years watching TV with one boyfriend who was also depressed. We had no visitors. His family is local; they came over one time in ten years.
I moved for a while, to another state, with another boyfriend, who was… living with his mother. And he had no friends.
I finally bailed myself out of that horrid (that’s a whole other story which I might never tell) in part because I felt I was too much like my brother’s sponging girlfriend.
I believe that my patterns have been partially disrupted because I met my current boyfriend totally at random with a little help from some bumper stickers. He’s also the first person in my life to say they were going to change and actually did it.
