Meltdown. I had an absolute meltdown in group last night. By the time I had gotten to group, I was already in a bad mood. Traffic was bad and then the subway broke down and it was just a fucking disaster, so by the time I got there we were already halfway through check in's. I pretty much just blew everything off and was like I'm frustrated with my life, that's all. And it was just so fucking noticeable how pissed off and bitchy I was, and still, K, challenged me and asked me if I had an answer to her fucking question. I didn't, obviously. And so, again, she asked people to think of something. KB said I was a worthwhile human being and S said I was beautiful and I just started crying because I'm so god damn tired of being challenged. And of course, it didn't stop there. At the end when there was enough time to talk, I just expressed myself about being challenged; about every week that I hate that I'm put on the spot to answer a question I'm not quite sure I'll ever have an answer too. And I just couldn't stop crying. I said I hear what people say, and I just, how can I even think something of myself when I'm am the girl who always fall short; so close, but just never quite makes it all the way. And she just flat out challenged me with the truth. Told me I have lived my life like this so long, that this is my prison, that I have brainwashed myself so much to believe that I'm really guilty of all these things I'm not; all these things I believe I am...ugly, stupid, unimportant, worthless, uneducated, drop out, unemployed, fat. She told me I've conditioned myself to these thoughts that every week when she asks me if I have an answer to my question, she literally just watches me shut down. That the things I could maybe say or want to say, I can't even let myself believe them so I immediately just shut down.
She's right. Because I want to tell her that I really am a worthwhile person and I am beautiful and I am inspiring and I am kind and caring and funny and helpful and I type these things and I feel guilty. I feel swallowed by guilt, like I've just broke some cardinal rule of how I'm supposed to live my life. Like I've committed an eighth sin. It fucking aches to write things I don't believe myself to even have worth to amount to. I want to believe I can change, but I write these things and try to feel them and I just feel trapped. Thundering, all I can hear is, how can you be any of those things when deep down you know the person you are, the things you've done/haven't done. Who are you kidding? You're a piece of shit and that is all you have ever amounted to.
And then I got home and everything about work surfaced. I laid for hours in bed with my sister just talking about life and so badly I wanted to be connected to all the things going on in her life; so badly I just want to slip out of myself and into the pieces of her life, or someones life, anybodies life, so that I can maybe understand what I'm supposed to be doing or where I'm supposed to be going and maybe, just maybe, it will be enough for me to hold in my hands and carry back to my own life. I laid awake till 3am when I decided that I needed to make myself a feast because that's what I do. That's who I am. And then I sliced my fucking finger open trying to cut a bagel and made a mess. I had to wake up my mom who was angry that I was eating during the night, terrified I was eating during the night, and we talked and talked and I just didn't hold back because it was 3am and who I am in the dark of night is not who I am in the day and sometimes its just easier when it's night and you don't have to play respectable girl whose got it all together.
She called into work for me today. I need a job, but she asked me, at what cost?
I don't know.
I'm not sure of anything these days.
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