A couple weeks ago, I was talking to my roommates and they asked how I was feeling, you know, what with being all broken heart-y and stuff. I thought about it and replied, “You know what? I’m actually really good. I haven’t felt super sad in a long time now. I think I’m really moving forward! Yay no more sadness!”
The next day, I could barely stop crying.
Well played, Sadness. You’re a sneaky bitch, aren’t you?
Since that little setback, I’ve stopped crying and have kept fairly busy. Okay, I’ve kept insanely busy. But that sadness kind of permeated everything for a little while and is still hanging on. Vix and I were talking last night and she was all, “It’s good you’ve been so busy but maybe you need to set aside some time to just feel sad? Maybe you have some feelings you need to deal with and pushing them away is catching up with you.”
I have a dirty little secret I’ve been keeping from you guys. I don’t even like to admit it to myself. But this blog is all about honesty. I mean, y’all can deal with pictures from the Pixie Cut years, so you guys are clearly brave. I guess it’s time to come clean with this.
I hear voices.
Not really a lot of voices, just one nagging voice in the back of my head.
He never wanted you.
Nobody will ever want you again.
Your friends don’t really like you, you know. They just feel sorry for you.
This is all your fault.
That’s the voice that keeps me up at night. That’s what I hear in my super insecure moments. It’s a soft, small, grating voice that I’ve named Rejection.
It doesn’t matter how good the relationship was, how many times he told me this wasn’t my fault; in the end, he didn’t want to be with me. In the end, I wasn’t enough. That’s a hard truth to deal with and it’s starting to slip into other areas of my life.
Too bad you aren’t skinnier.
Too bad you aren’t prettier.
Too bad you were too dumb to finish college. Both times.
Too bad you just aren’t good enough.
I know the voice is wrong. And I want to figure out how to make it go away. I just don’t know how yet. Maybe I do need to take some time to face the sadness and learn how to stand up to that voice. But that’s scary. Right now, that seems scary. So I’ll do other things instead.
This weekend I’ve made a lot of plans. I’m going here tomorrow night and here on Saturday night. I’m going wear glitter and fake eyelashes. I’m going to wear a sexy dress and pretty shoes. I’ll find a costume for Saturday night and I’ll surround myself with some of my favorite people in the world, people who make me feel happy and free and loved.
Maybe I’ll feel insecure. Maybe I’ll feel sad. Maybe I’ll even hear that awful voice.
But hopefully the music will be too loud for me to listen.