I'm terrified of becoming my family. They are wonderful people whom I love and respect; I don't mind when I catch myself doing/saying something my mom does, and I don't mind when I can trace my thought patterns and taste back to my dad. I love those parts of them, and those parts of myself, and all the other parts too, but I don't want to live the life that they live. I feel my whole world slipping lately; I'm hanging on to the edge of the life I made for myself over the past 10 years but it seems like the universe really wants me to fall into the same type of financial abyss from which my parents have never fully escaped. Every time there's even a hint of improvement, things get worse. And I am really trying to make things better.
I never feel good enough when I just try. I either have to be successful, or I'm a fucking failure. I never learned how to try gracefully; how to learn and grow in a healthy way instead of hating myself until I get it right. I only know how to loathe every second of something until I feel like I've done it perfectly (and by that time I'm usually so sick of it that I never come back to it again anyway). I know I'm not alone in that, but it feels like I am. Every time I visit Pepijn's family, I'm reminded of how difficult I make things. His entire family makes success look easy; they do what they love, they work hard because they enjoy it, they're kind to other people, they're happy. I desperately want that for myself. Sometimes I believe I could have it, but then there are nights like tonight when I think of how overwhelming everything feels and how much trouble I'm having finding a job and I feel totally lost.
I guess my point is that me trying to make things better is not going well, and I don't know how to not resent myself for it. All I feel is guilt, all the time. I was the one who needed to fix my broken brain. I was the one who didn't plan well. I was the one who didn't go back to work in January like we had planned, and now I am the one who can't get hired anywhere because every designer on earth wants to work remotely and there are 0 design jobs in Buffalo and even though I know I'm good, I am clearly not good enough.
I don't want to feel any hate for myself. I understand that unrealistic expectations help nothing. I know exactly where I got those expectations, I know why they persist. But I don't know how to make them stop. I don't think this particular set will go away until I'm hired somewhere. It's needed so urgently that I can't help it, and telling myself to be patient and confident is pissing me off. I'm literally making myself mad by trying to be kind to myself. This is what it feels like to be me, 100% of the time, welcome to hell PLS DON'T LEAVE I NEED YOU TO STAY HERE WITH ME AND KEEP ME COMPANY.
Tomorrow Pepijn and I will have been married for 1 year. We're not really celebrating it until the 21st, since that's when we wanted to get married originally, but it's been a year. We've been laughing about how awful it's been—serious depression, awful jobs, no jobs at all, a city we don't really want to be in, growing pains associated with living together for the first time, etc.—looking back on it, the struggles on the surface seem to eclipse the happiness a little bit. But the happiness is there, and it's pure and silly and feels like home, just like happiness should.