On Sunday Pep and I had a few hours to kill in the car, which is where I do all of my best (worst) thinking, and I asked him if he ever feels like he has nothing to offer. I rarely feel this way; but, once in a while something will make me question myself, and then I find myself spiraling out of control. I am going to be 29 years old in 6 days. Sometimes I feel like I've spent 29 years dicking around without acquiring any qualities that make me a fully functioning, well-rounded human being. I don't drive, I don't cook, I'm not a particularly warm or friendly person. I don't willingly engage in conversation, and I often lose friendships because of that. I'm useless when put on the spot; I need a lot of time to think and prepare before I can present something useful. I am fairly turbulent. I don't make small talk when it counts, and I cannot make myself act interested when I'm not. Insecurities about my body often keep me from having fun. I have trouble managing my money and I don't want kids. I made a (horrible) joke in my head that went: That's how you know Pep's feelings are for real...he wants to love you despite the fact that you are actually unlovable. And then I frantically swatted that thought away, as if he would discover the same horrible truth if I let it exist in my head for even one second.
This! is not! even! CLOSE! to! OK!
I let myself feel this way for a couple days, usually, but in some cases (this most recent one particularly) I accidentally allow extra sadness to creep in. So I cry for a while and get no sleep and go into work unable to open my eyes all the way, and tell myself once per minute, you are going to be OK, everything is going to be OK. I doodle "OK" on a post-it to remind myself, and stick it to my computer. Sometimes I'm able to convince myself of this, and sometimes I'm not, but I of course always end up being just fine. I always end up just fine, so I'm not sure why I worry so...violently?
I let people draw conclusions about me on their own. I don't mind if people don't like me. I am an extremely complex person, and I certainly can appear more cynical and abrasive than positive, but I love my life and I love the universal balance of things and I love myself too, despite my insecurities. I also love the people who have fought off my barbed wire to stay in my life, understanding that it will likely never be easy to love me. I love these people so deeply. And I am so thankful for them. I try hard for these people; the ones who know that they can't expect me to be a machine, the ones who give me freedom to explore my thoughts and take my time selecting the sweetest ones, the ones who know that I might require some finessing, but I will always prove to them that I'm worth the effort.