My Conclusion

I just figured shit out.

I found the answer to why I had that fling with Colin last summer.

Why I tend to be flirtatious.

Why I like physical contact with guys.

Why John couldn't deal with that.

Why I couldn't deal with John not dealing with that.

Why I was constantly trying to prove myself to John...etc etc on that note.

Another reason why I had to break up with John.

Why I have a facebook.

Why I blog.

Why I drink.

They all have the same answer.



(Don't look too closely at that...I didn't feel like actually working it out.:P )


In other words... (?!) My whole life I have had the image of "perfect." I was the perfect baby with blue eyes and blonde hair in ringlets...

Then I was a Palmer.*

Then I was Catholic and not only Catholic but home schooled. That meant that not only I was a "solid Catholic" I was also uber intelligent.

*Then I was a Catholic Palmer which meant I had to be part of the only family in the entire expanse of the Palmer Family that didn't screw up.

Then I was the daughter of a gymnastics coach.

Then I was a gymnast.

Then I was the best gymnast.

etc

etc

etc

So all my life I have been held to this façade of perfection. It didn't really start to bug me until I got into high school and I realized that some things in life are challenging? And I may not ALWAYS come out on top, in fact, I may not always even succeed at all. So I struggled with that inferiority complex for four years.

When I graduated I was put on Citalopram which gave me a huge boost of confidance. Suddenly, I realized that I didn't have to give a fuck about being perfect and I could do whatever the hell I wanted. So I started fucking up on purpouse. Because I could.

And I've been doing that ever since.

Why did Colin happen? Because I shouldn't have done it. Because being good meant not doing it. Because I wanted attention. I wanted someone to see me fucking up and finally realize that I wasn't perfect. (Same reason for flirting and physical contact.) John had the honor of being that person...but then of course, I was ashamed. Because John was the only person I wanted to think I was perfect. Guess that plan back-fired. But at least it got me some attention. Secretly, I wanted to know if John would chase after me. He didn't. But you know what? If he had, I would have only been happy for as long as he was chasing. Then I would be bored again.

John couldn't deal with that because he didn't see it in this light. All he saw was me not being perfect when he thought I was. Because he saw it as me being a slut. As me not wanting to be with him anymore.

I couldn't deal with that because I was tired of trying to prove how good I was to everyone. I just wanted to fuck up and have that be okay. I was tired...17 years and I was frickin' tired.

But I did it anyway. Why? Because, like I said, John was the only one I wanted to think I was perfect. Becauses I had myself convinced that I was nothing without him. This area is still a little grey for me. That's why I had to break up with him. I don't know why the fuck I did it anyway, it didn't make sense. So I stopped.

Why do I have xanga and facebook? Because I feel the inherient need to PROVE to the world that not only am I not perfect, but I'm not a horrible person. So I throw my shit up on the internet for who-even-cares to read to prove a point. Sometimes I'm perfect, sometimes I'm a fuck up, and sometimes I'm in between. And that makes me NORMAL.

Why do I drink? Because a lot of people view it as a bad thing. Because that's one part of my life that I can "control." Or CHOOSE not to control, if you will.

That's where Minesweeper comes in. I figure this out about one thing, and it's like all the sudden it applies to a bunch of other "boxes" in my life. So I go through, figure out which ones they are, flag them, and then try to clean out the rest of my life. Then, when I'm ready, I'm going to hit that last box and all those mines are going to explode and disappear.

Someday, hopefully soon, I'm not going to feel the desire to facebook, or blog, or drink. Because I have nothing to prove. Because I'm not perfect, and I'm not not perfect: I'm me. And that's good enough for me. And that's all that matters.