So you know when you're going through some life-changing relationship liason, broken hearted and pessimistic about everything, very Ne-YO "So Sick" without the power to actually turn off the radio? Well that was today. It's like my heart was waiting on the corner of the street, and a car flew by and covered it with mud. And then a loving couple is holding hands in front of me and I'm running to my next class with a broken heel and my morning perk-up spilled all over my new creme colored blouse.
You're all invited to my pity party. No streamers, no balloons, no delicious diet-breaking cake or chocolate waterfall. I know it's time for a change in my life, I want to make it, I see the "signs" in me.
Within the past year or so I have been making monumental mistakes, acting purely on vodka or insecurity. People I know have lost respect for me, I am losing respect for me. And that is what is killing me. I have held my head proud and because of what I know is on the inside, I can wake up one more day. Not anymore. I can hear your advice "It doesn't matter what people think, if you know inside what you are, it doesn't matter what anyone else says." But none of that rings true to me. It is simply hovering on the surface with all the rest of the advice that is so easily given but rarely taken.
"We all make mistakes." "If they believe a conclusion like that without even knowing the facts, they aren't worth your time."
But we have all been on the other side, bashing the best of us who have made "big mistakes". We hear about someone's reputation and think "Yea, she's trash - I heard that she ..." or "People like that never change, that girl..." Well, Now I'm THAT GIRL.
What happens when suddenly I am finding myself defined by the opinions of others? I've lost friends, boyfriends and even potential boyfriends (after the fact) because of the reputation I have created for myself in collaboration with the spin on things the grapevine always provides (Remember the Telephone Game in elementary school?)
Something more painful and overwhelming is that I am disgusted with the author of this very post, ashamed of the very feelings I feel, completely uninspired and feeling like I've got nothing.
Mistakes. We are supposed to get past them. It's not a mistake if you learn from it. My mistakes turned my entire world around, and I'm left kneeling on the ground with the pieces scattered around me. These broken relationships, the good reputation that I had that is now rubble, all a dark reminder of the consequences of my actions.
I'm still resisting accepting that when things are broken, sometimes they can't be fixed. I'm still baffled by the idea that no matter how genuine my apologies and attempts are to mend wounds, it will never be enough.
Everyday I let myself sink deeper into this ominous "funk" that I know if my friend were going through I would be maniacally concerned. Ice cream and shoe shopping doesn't fix this pain when I'm about to fall asleep. I feel desperate, out of control.