[This isn’t going to be your preferred Monday type of inspirational or funny read… I apologize for that right now. But I just needed to get these words off my chest and I promise to keep it moving after this. I figured maybe there would be a light at the end of this… I’m still waiting for it, but please don’t feel forced to read anything that’s “sad” or upsetting. This one wasn’t for the likes or the comments. It was just…. well. It is what is is.]
This early morning I stepped my bare-naked feet onto the uninviting cold, white tile floor and subconsciously decided that I would ruin my own morning up with a negative mindset.
I slugged my way into my bathroom and glared so far beyond my reflection in the mirror that I had no idea who or what I was even looking at- and proceeded to call myself a “fucking ugly cow”.
Damn girl. Is that all you got?
That was harsh though.
But I saw nothing but a blank, nameless face consumed by sadness and stained with eyeliner that I didn’t have the energy to remove last night.
Of all people, I know better than this. I have always taken amazing care of my skin. But I’m far from perfect and there are those nights when dude… I just don’t give a fuck about my eyelashes, my pores, or anti-aging remedies because I have bigger things to stress. Like even wanting to wake up the next morning at all, for example. When you’re battling this kind of demon who’s out for blood and miserably losing- aging and anything in the Beauty & Bullshit category just kinda gets knocked to the rock-bottom of your list of “super important life-stuff to worry about”.
Last night was such a painfully eye-opening one for me. It’s too emotionally draining to even get into the details but having to face the fact that my “lack of confidence” is boring- was painful.
Having to hear that from another human being well- it just does things to you- unspeakable things that a normal, straight-thinking person could never even begin to fathom. Normal-minded people can’t make sense of the kinds of shit that over-thinking, emotionally-tangled, darker people like myself deal with inside. Normal people. They just don’t get it. How their choice of words or actions that they didn’t think could cause any harm, can cause permanent destruction.
Whoever first said that “the truth hurts”, wasn’t fucking kidding.
And the thing about supposedly super-strong me is that once a tsunami of this degree of sadness and self-pity abruptly washes over me like this- it takes everything with it. I got nothing left. Just salty tears and remnants of deep-rooted love for my children that seems to keep my feet bolted to the ground beneath them and magically keeps me from letting this vessel of flesh just go with the rushing wave too.
And so all I could do this morning was sit
on my cold bathroom floor, turn my blow dryer on, and cry beneath it’s warm, deep roar. I feel sorry for myself and I have no idea how to even begin to fix it. I’m so deep into my self-inflicted fuckeries that it’s hard to even write this.
I should be ashamed. I am ashamed. But the words needed to be written. They needed to be read.
Plain and simple: I’m unhappy with myself and none of the “you’re awesome”, “you’re beautiful don’t ever forget that” bullshit matters. My perspectives are so distorted I feel like I’m permanently lost in a Not-So-Fun-house-of-Mirrors that has no way out; no slide at the end to bring me back to reality.
It’s disheartening- to publicize these probably too-personal words. I feel so weak and vulnerable that I worry if a light breathe of wind passes in my direction it will knock me down and leave me there- stranded like a turtle on it’s back, scrambling to get back on its feet but utterly failing.
I don’t know how I got to this point. I’ve been here before, but I’m not sure I can
remember it ever being this draining. I’ve fallen apart and I don’t know how to to put myself back together.
I wish I had a red button hanging from my neck like the one old people can press when they’ve fallen and they can’t get up (they should make these for upside-down turtles. The poor things). But it’s so much more complicated than needing to be saved. No one can help me but myself and there’s no fucking instruction manual. I’m broken into a billion pieces and I’m not a jigsaw puzzle. My broken pieces aren’t clean-edged…my broken pieces won’t just “fit” beautifully and snug back into place like cardboard. Though, I may as well be cardboard at this point. Cardboard just…seems easier.
This lack of self love lately has affected every aspect of my life, I see that and that realization only forces me take further steps back, deeper into the darkness- where things are comfy and easy.
Face the music? Well I suppose that’s partially what this post is about. And I’m basically facing a unreleased twisted Evanescence song gone wrong.
Talk about Monday morning inspiration.
And now, back to your regular scheduled fake-positive-affirmation meme-posting fun!