(no subject)
i think i'm the result of some kind of weird karma.
when i was in middle school, i really romanticized mental illness, loneliness, angst, etc. because that's what the shitty bands of the time told me to do. they made misery seem so glamorous. i wrote all these journal entries about how i had no friends, or how i was so full of sorrow that i could barely function. none of that was true, of course. or maybe it felt like it was true at the time, because when you're 12 all of your emotions seem so RAW and REAL and EARTH-SHATTERING.
so it's weird reading those journal entries now, when i really am very mentally ill and am genuinely very lonely. the depression now is very real and very crushing. is this what i wanted? i think if i had known it would be like this, i never would have tried to drown myself in my own "sorrow" - i would have been more grateful for what i did have.
if i had been given a glimpse into the future,
if i had seen my 26 year-old self hunched over in a cubicle, trying her best to stifle sobs and quell a panic attack
if i had seen her desperately check her phone only to find no notifications
if i had seen her cry into her dog's fur because she was rejected by another man, or because she damaged the only friendship she has due to insecurity
if i had seen those things, i don't think i would have romanticized them at all. but somehow i've grown into the person i wrote journal entries about - except without the melodrama and cowboy bebop lyrics. why did i spend so much of my youth TRYING to be unhappy? i certainly don't want to feel this way now, so why did i want to back then?
i was insufferable. i like to think that i've grown, but i don't think i have, really. all of my insecurities, my need for praise, my self-centeredness, my emotional greed...it's still there. the only difference is that now i'm honest about it. but it's nights like these that i question where those things came from. i don't want to be a victim but sometimes that's easier than taking the blame. are these flaws born from deeply-rooted fears of rejection? are they the result of
becca leaving
jeffrey's rejection and subsequent first heartbreak
montessori's contempt and dismissal
kymberly's disappearance
angst over thomas
andrew's abuse
ben's neglect
???
sometimes i look back on those things and i think about all the people who have broken me, and i selfishly wonder, "what did i do to deserve any of that?" but then a tiny nagging voice in the back of my mind makes itself known. maybe i am the problem. they wouldn't have done things things if i DIDN'T deserve them, right? why should anyone treat me well? why should i be entitled to good relationships? so my emotions are a confusing flurry of anger at the people who hurt me, anger at myself for not being a good enough person for them not to hurt me, feeling like i deserve the rejection, feeling like i don't deserve the rejection, self-loathing, guilt, etc., etc.
lately when i have told people (ben) that they've hurt me, they get defensive. make excuses. suddenly i'm the bad guy. how dare i feel hurt? how dare i TELL them i feel hurt? so I'M the one left feeling guilty. i'm left questioning myself. am i allowed to be hurt? am i being too sensitive? should i suck it up? am i the one ruining things?
maybe i shouldn't have written any of this out because now i just hate myself again.
when i was in middle school, i really romanticized mental illness, loneliness, angst, etc. because that's what the shitty bands of the time told me to do. they made misery seem so glamorous. i wrote all these journal entries about how i had no friends, or how i was so full of sorrow that i could barely function. none of that was true, of course. or maybe it felt like it was true at the time, because when you're 12 all of your emotions seem so RAW and REAL and EARTH-SHATTERING.
so it's weird reading those journal entries now, when i really am very mentally ill and am genuinely very lonely. the depression now is very real and very crushing. is this what i wanted? i think if i had known it would be like this, i never would have tried to drown myself in my own "sorrow" - i would have been more grateful for what i did have.
if i had been given a glimpse into the future,
if i had seen my 26 year-old self hunched over in a cubicle, trying her best to stifle sobs and quell a panic attack
if i had seen her desperately check her phone only to find no notifications
if i had seen her cry into her dog's fur because she was rejected by another man, or because she damaged the only friendship she has due to insecurity
if i had seen those things, i don't think i would have romanticized them at all. but somehow i've grown into the person i wrote journal entries about - except without the melodrama and cowboy bebop lyrics. why did i spend so much of my youth TRYING to be unhappy? i certainly don't want to feel this way now, so why did i want to back then?
i was insufferable. i like to think that i've grown, but i don't think i have, really. all of my insecurities, my need for praise, my self-centeredness, my emotional greed...it's still there. the only difference is that now i'm honest about it. but it's nights like these that i question where those things came from. i don't want to be a victim but sometimes that's easier than taking the blame. are these flaws born from deeply-rooted fears of rejection? are they the result of
becca leaving
jeffrey's rejection and subsequent first heartbreak
montessori's contempt and dismissal
kymberly's disappearance
angst over thomas
andrew's abuse
ben's neglect
???
sometimes i look back on those things and i think about all the people who have broken me, and i selfishly wonder, "what did i do to deserve any of that?" but then a tiny nagging voice in the back of my mind makes itself known. maybe i am the problem. they wouldn't have done things things if i DIDN'T deserve them, right? why should anyone treat me well? why should i be entitled to good relationships? so my emotions are a confusing flurry of anger at the people who hurt me, anger at myself for not being a good enough person for them not to hurt me, feeling like i deserve the rejection, feeling like i don't deserve the rejection, self-loathing, guilt, etc., etc.
lately when i have told people (ben) that they've hurt me, they get defensive. make excuses. suddenly i'm the bad guy. how dare i feel hurt? how dare i TELL them i feel hurt? so I'M the one left feeling guilty. i'm left questioning myself. am i allowed to be hurt? am i being too sensitive? should i suck it up? am i the one ruining things?
maybe i shouldn't have written any of this out because now i just hate myself again.