In my youth, I always had an infatuation with Sylvia Plath; I would be lying if I said that flame burned out entirely. She was the author that I related to the most during some intense years of cheap soul-searching. For a while, I thought I wouldn’t make it past 30 because thinking so gave me some sort of flair when I was younger and provided me with an intensity I didn’t actually possess.
Not that I am or was just dying to jump off of every building passed by, or run into traffic. But when my emotions do their thing and overwhelm my logic, I end up doing this hysterical laughing and crying thing and then collapse. I slept for a solid 16 hours the other night and yesterday, I spent a good portion of my work shift heaving with anxiety in the utility closet, watching the hotel lobby from the cameras. Luckily I work alone, so this emotional relief was played out in complete solitude. 
Then, it hit me, like it always does when I’m thinking “ohhhhh, poooooor me, I just want to diieeeee, no one really appreciates me” in the perfectly allotted amount of dramatic fashion necessary. My first way or relieving myself is to write my “suicide letter”. Before, I continue, as morbid as this whole post sounds, it’s equally ludicrous and stupid. I’m not saying suicide is stupid, but my life isn’t hard, and I have a lot of support and fantastic friends, along with an amazing boyfriend, so it’s basically an intense pity parade for me when I’ve sucked all of the sympathy out of everyone and they’re tired of hearing me whine.
I’m not dismissing the gravity of my depression, but I kind of am because nothing is that serious in my life. The truth is, depression is either going to be the end of me, or it’s not, but my desire to prove myself is far stronger than my desire to quit trying. I have no intention of ever committing suicide, which is why I have this entire protocol for dealing with these moods, because even I know that I’m full of shit.
So anyway, I write my pseudo-suicide letter, which I’ve never made it to the end because half-way through, I’m thinking “that’s stupid” and “nope, can’t do that to mom”. As well as many other thoughts telling me that my thespian behavior is unnecessary, and I should just get my shit together instead of crying in my room and feeling sorry for myself. It’s never the warm thoughts of “your life is worth it, you have a lot of things to do”. Unfortunately, that doesn’t work with me, so I have to enforce tough-love on myself.
So, after writing two paragraphs last night, I realized that I’m putting all of this effort into making everyone else happy and putting myself waaaay at the back. I’m border-line martyrish, but overall, I just avoid confrontation because I’m adaptable and change and pleasing others is fine with me under certain circumstances. But then I realized, as hard as I’m working to make everyone else happy, none of those people are working half as hard to make me happy.
This revelation took the wheel and I handed out some ultimatums, finished my shift at work, went home, smoked my bed-time treat and passed out listening to Elton John and my cat lick his wounded tail that I couldn’t afford to have professionally tended-to.
I woke up, went to the courthouse to set-up payments on my $1100 ticket (for totaling my car and not having insurance or registration on the car), went to the dealership and picked up my new plates and registration sticker for my car, then ate at my favorite Pizza place (Parton’s Pizza ❤️) and came to work. It was a much-needed productive day with some alone time. I also collected quarters from every crevice of my purse and car, took the car to a self-wash and then vacuumed it out so I could feel like a queen again.
My mood today is years apart from who I was yesterday, it’s insane that one minute I can look at the stairs with roof access and think “yah, go on up, they’ll be sorry” and the next, look at my car and think “damn, you make me feel good.”
Basically, that’s all there is to this post. Things like “you’re worth it” and “you have so much to give to others” litter the internet, tucked tightly inside of feel-good therapy articles and blogs. Personally, I feel like the best thing a person can do is remember they have a voice and their own, unique will to power. Validating yourself through feel-good emotions is all fine and good, but not every emotion is uplifting and honest when you need to feel it. Sometimes we need reminders that we’re imperfect and that it can be challenging to love ourselves at times, but accepting the bad with the good is healthy.
Everyone sucks at some point in their life. Everyone is weird and everyone handles things differently. But the one thing that makes us all so different, is still the one thing that makes us all the same: we’re emotional creatures and we need to process and accept our emotions in a healthy way rather than patting ourselves on the back all the time and saying “you’re great and you’re worth it!”
That being said, this is simply how I’ve come to deal with my life, it makes it much more tolerable and I can fully appreciate who I am as a person and how things affect my life. I can be the most generous and kind person to you one minute, and the next, I’m pissed off at the world and hate the sun, the grass and all animals (except dogs). Not because I’m bi-polar (I’m not) but because I’m human.
Whitney is wrong 