“I’m running on empty. The late nights and long drives start to get to me.” — The Wonder Years
My heart and voice have been disjointed in the last three weeks. A lot is on my mind, but the thoughts keep splintering in my hands.
However, there is one thing I feel like I can successfully articulate, and that is this: don’t believe every thought you have about yourself — most of them are garbage.
Overanalyzing and anxiety have caused me to dance on the lip of an emotion volcano my entire life.
We’re all well aware by now that I love people hard, so I could never understand why no one was mirroring my exact behavior.
Cue the overanalyzing that always comes up with this explanation: It’s me.
For the longest time, I genuinely believed that I had deceived my friends and family into thinking I was smart, funny and attractive. I didn’t have an explanation for how I did it, but I just knew, “Well, this is going to be awful when they rub their eyes of the witchcraft and finally find me out.”
We all have vicious voices in our heads that tell us we’re too fat to wear crop tops, not smart enough to go for that job or too pale to be pretty — YUP, DAILY THOUGHTS AND YES, I AM AWARE THAT I AM “SoOoOoOoOo WHITE” — that’s normal, and this might be obvious to a lot of you, but it wasn’t for me, so here it goes: just because you think it, doesn’t mean it’s real.
Those awful, gut-punching thoughts are just trying to protect us from something. They’re scared, wounded versions of ourselves that remember the one time in fourth grade when your friend told you that you were ugly when you wore your hair in a ponytail and your jean vest was hideous. (It was 2000 and we had a tumultuous relationship). So, the voices say, “No, you can’t wear your hair like that. You’re ugly,” before someone else has the opportunity.
Let them have that opportunity, because the older I get, the more I realize that it doesn’t matter what people think they know about you. People also can be garbage. That’s their issue, not yours.
Pet your dogs.