I wanted to share an excerpt from my journal that’s dated 15/05/19…
Where am I at this stage in my life? I’m unchanged, lying to myself, pretending to be an independent 18 year-old when in reality I’m still that little girl running round in circles, desperately seeking approval from her father. I can’t change, even my optimism can accept that now. At the moment disappearing feels easier than trying to change. That’s what I always tell myself “I’m trying” and most of the time I genuinely am, but it’s simply not enough. Like that exam you spend weeks studying for and you still fail it. Once again I feel as if my efforts aren’t enough, or maybe I’m simply not trying hard enough; that’s what my father would say.
How can someone love me when my entire personality is built on pleasing others? I wish I was strong enough to change.
Recently, I studied Chacun Cherche Son Chat, and goodness did Klapisch get it right; we are all searching for something in life, and even though we meet people along the way and they join us on our search, we still feel utterly alone. My inability to connect with people, the beautiful paradox of a ‘community of loneliness’. Perhaps I am the cat that gets lost in the film, and by the time someone’s found me, they don’t need me, as they have found what they’re searching for. In that sense, the cat actually helped them find what they were looking for; the cat serves as a tool, a metaphor.
My optimism wishes to say that I will change, that counselling will help me focus on myself, but I think I know that’s not true. I will not make someone else suffer through the frustration of willing someone to change, I don’t want anyone to go through that, I know I’ve spent 18 years doing it.