So forgive the obnoxious amounts of upset words that will be used in the following paragraphs. When feeling overly depressed, I’m told there’s two real choices: self-harm and writing. I’m not one for mutilation beyond picking at my cuticles, so…well.
I’ve been thinking pretty hard recently about myself and my shortcomings and all of the fun self-reflection subjects that most try not to do too often, and I remembered that before I came to college, I had a pretty healthy hatred for myself. Like, my daily mantra was that I suck and why even bother and why would anyone think nice things about me and what would it be like if I weren’t here, would anyone even notice, blah blah blah. Who knows where it stems from, probably a therapist would tell me if I bothered to show up (haha sure right whatever), but it reflected in how I never could take compliments, why I never really liked opening up to people about myself, why I tried so hard to be someone who was nice to everyone and never criticize (because seriously if I suck so bad, what place do I have to pass judgement?)…
And then I came to Boulder, and all of that changed. I think somewhere along the line I tricked myself into thinking it was okay to like myself a little bit, or at least forget to tear myself down on a regular basis. I surrounded myself with people who for some reason only had nice things to say to me or about me. My coworkers would actually dislike other people based on how that person treated me. I was dating someone I would never, ever, picture wanting to be with someone as childish and scrawny as me. More blah blah blah positive things.
Now I find myself in the opposite position, whether because my own mental mindset has changed or because my environment has is anyone’s guess. I don’t have a lot of close friends, if any at all. I’ve started feeling invisible most times, and pathetic when seen. That self-hatred is rearing up again and I’ve lost all the people who were able to drown it out, though no doubt I did plenty to encourage them to leave. Oddly enough, a quote from Harvey Dent works pretty well to describe my mindset lately: You either die a hero or live long enough to become the villain.
No one has been checking this tumblr recently, which I guess makes me glad. But on the off-chance one of the handful of people who knows about it checks again within the next couple months, I guess you could say this is an apology/explanation for my behavior recently.
I’ve decided to put myself in time out for most social interactions that are otherwise not mandatory. Maybe it’s a self-defense mechanism, but I don’t want to burden anyone anymore with whatever the hell I qualify as. A pathetic mess? A ridiculously insecure child? A directionless waste? Who knows. I’ll come up with some more poetic insults in the future I’m sure.
They say you can’t truly love someone else until you love yourself. Oh well. Never really saw myself deserving of it anyway.
There are some days when I really just hate my life.
there was no such thing as birthdays and people just popped out of the ground instead and it wasn’t a social expectation to make a big deal out of it and shit.
But mostly I want everyone else to have birthdays and not me. That would be even better. Because I like making a big deal out of other people.