2/21/18
(This is an odd post, bear with me please.)
My outlooks on life are seemingly crude despite my inner outreach for positivity. It is for the sole and simple fact that I am constantly and irrevocably terrified of everything around me. I am scared that if I actually show the amount of content I am with myself, someone or something will come along and take that security away from me.
It’s something I’ve feared for a long time. Life was not simple or fun or easy before coming to school here. Heck, it’s usually not any of those things now, but days are easier and I feel like I can breathe. It’s an odd feeling.
Going years and years not realizing how the thoughts in your head are not right and the way you see yourself is actually distorted is something that people can get caught up in. I spent years (I feel dumb writing this because it makes me sound older than I am and I hate that but at the same time I feel older than I am so I’m just going to go with it- I’m sorry) doing and feeling things that I shouldn’t have. I’ve gotten myself into situations that not only hurt myself, but the people around me. Years of, not only physical, but mental self-harm left a lot of scars that I feel like I am constantly trying to cover up. With like, metaphorical scar cream or something.
I put people that I care about in unfair positions just to see how they would react. This is not a good thing, I suggest not doing it. It causes more problems than its worth.
My mom and I have a very complicated relationship because of me. And her. I can’t say mostly her or mostly me because it was team effort to screw up the whole thing. Even though it has gotten better, things are still tense and weird at times. (Update: she’s not mad about my tattoo.)
I don’t really know what else to put for the last 100 words. This was as personal as I’ve gotten in a long time, and it’s not even that personal so that shows how I am, I guess.
I’m tired of hating myself? That’s a thing I can add. It’s boring and cliche and extremely exhausting. I don’t technically love myself, but I’m in the process of at least accepting that my stomach is not completely flat and how my nose resembles a bird’s beak more than an actual nose. I love birds. I want to be a bird when I grow up.
The second to last paragraph summed up how this piece feels. You admitted some things in this blog that were personal and full of feeling, but you also regarded them as light and not as tough. I respect that. I respect that you went through all of the mental harm that you did, and still came out of it, looking for the light. I respect that you can talk about it now because it is in the past, and I aspire to do as such too. Thank you for this piece; it was very different from the other stuff you write, but also kind of the same, and I could read it as if you were speaking all of it, which is super nice. 🙂
I came for the title and stayed because of the story. You’re a human and you’re growing constantly and willingly. You allow yourself that much and that’s A-okay! Remember: self preservation over exertion.
You talk about a lot of deep stuff in this that most people are afraid to say. I think that’s really brave of you and I’m glad that you’re healing. The honesty of this whole thing is really refreshing to read.
I love this opening up. I feel like this is a huge step. Also, I like the part at the end. It made me laugh to myself when I read, “I want to be a bird when I grow up.”
this is just really nice. not like, Nice nice, but fulfilling to read in some way. opening up is a big thing for a lot of people, especially when you’re the kind of person who does everything then can to keep it all locked up. sometimes, we just gotta let our scars see the sun; they probably need some vitamin d (this is a weird joke that only makes sense if you look up the mental health benefits of sunlight)