the portrait of self-loathing
I think I'm seriously ready to try some new meds. My mood is pretty bad at the moment (randomly bursting into tears is NOT fun) and my happy pills don't seem to be helping much. I'm irritable the more I try to socialize. I feel less and less like I fit in. I'm putting on performances again and it's getting so tiring...
I'm playing that stupid game of trying to be "strong" again. Why the hell do I care so much about being perfect anyway? I'm fully aware of my imperfections and I'm hurting myself trying to appear perfect. I get compliments at training and I get carried away with trying to maintain perfection. I do this every fucking time. Will I ever stop?? Then I make one minor mistake and my entire world shatters. I know it's minor and no one expects me to be perfect. I have that kind of self-awareness. I know all that... but I can never seem to apply it to myself. I have to try and be perfect no matter what. I'll fail, but goddamit, I'll try to maintain that illusion as much as I possibly can. And I'll do stupid things to achieve it, like not caring about my health, which is what made me so fucked up in the first place.
I wonder if I'll make it. The frequency of the training sessions threw me into the deep end and the anxiety is always there. Always. I want to be able to breathe. I'm pretty sure my therapist would be pissed.
I really don't care about myself much, do I? But what else is new?
I'll keep smiling. I'll be polite. I'll be quiet. But I'm chaos on the inside. Like you wouldn't believe.
And here come the tears again. Time for bed.
I'm playing that stupid game of trying to be "strong" again. Why the hell do I care so much about being perfect anyway? I'm fully aware of my imperfections and I'm hurting myself trying to appear perfect. I get compliments at training and I get carried away with trying to maintain perfection. I do this every fucking time. Will I ever stop?? Then I make one minor mistake and my entire world shatters. I know it's minor and no one expects me to be perfect. I have that kind of self-awareness. I know all that... but I can never seem to apply it to myself. I have to try and be perfect no matter what. I'll fail, but goddamit, I'll try to maintain that illusion as much as I possibly can. And I'll do stupid things to achieve it, like not caring about my health, which is what made me so fucked up in the first place.
I wonder if I'll make it. The frequency of the training sessions threw me into the deep end and the anxiety is always there. Always. I want to be able to breathe. I'm pretty sure my therapist would be pissed.
I really don't care about myself much, do I? But what else is new?
I'll keep smiling. I'll be polite. I'll be quiet. But I'm chaos on the inside. Like you wouldn't believe.
And here come the tears again. Time for bed.