Not Everyone Will Understand You, and That’s Okay

I think, for many people, the hardest part of living, much like writing, is the criticism that comes with it.

Last night, I stood in my small kitchen, back against the white wall, eyes squinting in the fluorescent lighting, hunched over and crying. I didn’t feel anything; but at the same time, I felt everything.

“You don’t know me,” I told my boyfriend, and I could see the pain on his face as he registered my words. “No one does. Not you. Not my family. Not my best friends. They don’t know what goes on in my mind. And if they did, they wouldn’t love me.”

He wrapped his arms around me, but I was numb. My body was limp, my mind elsewhere.

Continue reading “Not Everyone Will Understand You, and That’s Okay”

What It’s Like to Be Brutally Self-Aware

Why did I share that? Do I just want validation? If so, from who? And why?

I open my eyes to the sunlight. It’s already 8 a.m. I slept through two alarms.

Am I lazy? People are already at work, and I’m still in bed.

I open my phone and load Instagram. Scroll through photos. Check for messages. Re-watch the story I posted last night.

Why did I share that? Do I just want validation? If so, from who? And why?

My heart races. Stomach clenches. Like I’m guilty of a heinous crime.

Am I not already content with the people in my life? Do I really need someone else to care about me? To accept me?

I sit up. Wipe the sweat off my forehead. Open my messages, wanting to confide in someone who understands.

Am I looking for sympathy? Is that a guy I’m about to text? What does that say about me? Do I enjoy their attention?

Thoughts pelt me from every direction. My head pounds.

I want to cry.
I want to sleep.
I want to escape.

Who even am I?

Continue reading “What It’s Like to Be Brutally Self-Aware”