Random thoughts circa late 2021

I do not simply wish to reach for the stars. 

I will struggle and claw my way there, and if I reach and am able to grasp them, I will grow angry with myself because I didn’t make an attempt to reach that particular galaxy. 

I don’t think I used to be this way. 

Mom says I was so confident as a kid, like…

…march up to other kids on the playground and ask to be friends kind of confident.

I do remember those times, but it is all very vague and clouded.

I do recall the feeling of fearlessness, but over time and with experience, that feeling has eroded, been spat upon, and drowned out by the monsoon of emotion that came during my teenage years. It ripped me apart at the seams until there were only scraps of that little girl left.

Mom also says that I have always been sensitive. I think she’s right about that too. Maybe it’s the mental illness, or perhaps it is embedded in my DNA. It’s the thing that bothers me the most though. I feel like I can be broken so easily… just a few misplaced words spill out of someone’s mouth, and I am writhing from the pressure rising in my brain. I feel so fragile all the time. I hate it, and because I can’t control it, I hate myself even more. 

I always wonder how other people do it… how does one cope? How do you contain all the big emotions, the paralyzing fears, the endless stream of disgust for one’s own body and mind? Do other people think this way at all? 

I need to move on and learn new skills to control everything, but I feel stuck. I am paralyzed, choking back tears, wondering how I can move forward when every answer points to “giving myself grace,” or “being patient/loving with yourself.” I have never been able to do that, and I highly doubt any amount of effort will change that. I will remain tortuously still, working towards futile dreams, with no hope for change.