I'm human, therefore I'm stupid. I'm a girl, therefore I'm irrational. These are my explanations for the state I found my mind in today. I walked around for most of the day sulking in my own pathetic pool of self-pity. I had gone from the happiest I had felt in months to hating myself, hating my circumstances, and hating that I hated these things so deeply. I was feeling unloved, utterly unappreciated, and all alone. But maybe most of all, I felt pathetic for having these feelings and allowing them to control me. I have hit some of my lowest lows in the last few months, and although today was by no means my absolute lowest point, it was up there in the ranks. I was either angry or on the brink of tears for almost a full 24 hours. This is not normal for me. Ever.
Call it a case of "the Mondays," PMS, or just being plain moody. However you choose to word it, it doesn't change the fact that I was being absolutely ridiculous. I have a tendency to get in my own way. Anyone can tell you that. I'm stubborn and uptight and excruciatingly hard on myself. This is the root of many of my major problems in life. I can't let go and I can't forgive myself for my own personal failures. I'm my own toughest critic, and that's something that I know most people can relate to. Lately, I have been even harder on myself than usual. The fact that I feel like I'm starting from scratch and learning to walk all over again is something for which I have come to resent myself. I've become increasingly impatient and restless with my progress, or lack thereof. It's a creepy split-personality kind of feeling. As much as I hate the usage of the "head and heart" metaphors (because in the sense they're used, they are exactly the same organ), I'm going to disregard my cringe reflex and be extremely cliche here: My head is yelling at my heart to stop being so stupid and just let go and get on with life already. But my heart still needs time. Time to finish hurting, time to get out all of its leftover feelings, time to heal and heal completely. I don't know how much time that is exactly, all I know is that I need to stop fighting it and just accept the fact that this is what is best for me.
I know that I'm not there yet. A. because the tiniest things still set me off. And B. because I'm trying to convince myself that I'm fine even though all I want to do is immediately go back to sleep as soon as I wake up in the morning just so I don't have to deal with my own feelings. I'm a mess. Plain and simple. I'm still not sure who I am on my own. I don't even know where to begin finding the remains of that independent, self-assured, bubbly girl that once inhabited my body. She apparently ran away in the hearts of the men she fell in love with who didn't quite love her enough.
All I know is that I have to thank God for what he has blessed me with. I may be more lost than I have ever felt in my twenty years of existence, but I am still blessed beyond reason. I have amazing people in my life who can lovingly slap me across the face and remind me to be thankful for everything that I have because it's more than enough. I have a wonderful, loving roommate who waits it out while I sift through all of my moods and then listens to me vent and repent over a pot of spaghetti that I made out of self-pity and the hopes of catharsis that it surely brought. I have more than I could ever ask for and I don't deserve an ounce of it.
So, maybe I'm not okay and maybe I won't be for a long time. But, maybe that's okay. I have been asking for patience from everyone around me all along. Maybe it's time that I start being patient with myself.
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