Hello. It's Me.

Hello. It's me. I was wondering if after all these weeks you'd like to read, to go over everything. They say that school's supposed to change ya, but I ain't done much changin.

Yeah. I did that. Forgive me and let's move on.

I'll get right to it. I feel like shit. More like, I feel like I'm shit. A big, steaming piece of shit.

This is an old feeling that seems to keep dressing up as another feeling and infiltrating my brain. This is the old feeling that kept me from applying to Columbia in high school. This is the old feeling that haunted me for 2 years because I lost my virginity before marriage. This is the old feeling I thought was gone or at least controllable.
It started with a constant dialogue with myself over the past semester. Am I a good person? Have I helped anyone? Do I understand and practice empathy? Is there something about me that people loathe but deal with because they have to? Do people loathe me secretly? Am I incredibly stupid but no one is telling me because they don't want me to feel bad? These toxic questions rattled around in my head at least once a week. I silenced them with work, school, and my new-ish romance, hoping that they'd disappear like they always do. Hoping there would be a silver lining that I could find and document in this blog. I also partially feared that if I spoke of them out loud to anyone, they'd become real and uncontrollable. One of my biggest fears is always making another person responsible for my emotions. I should be able to deal with them alone. I should be able to control them and not let them affect me. I shouldn't be so goddamn sensitive and insecure. This system of repression only worked for so long.

Tuesday night, I was at an improv rehearsal with Cat Booty (I know, I love the name too!) having a ball. This is one of the moments I felt myself. Laughs, glances, and jokes were exchanged between members and we had a great first set. Soon the second set started and I stepped out to get a suggestion. "Can I get a suggestion of something that you can't find in a ladies purse?" A teammate scoffed and slightly glared as if the idea was the stupidest thing that person had ever heard. This may not have been the case but for some reason it sent me in a tail spin. I shouted, "Well then you get a suggestion!" Our coach gave us a suggestion and the set moved forward. I cooled off and did my scene work but I couldn't help but start answering those questions with negative answers. Over and over I started thinking, "Wow idiot. Way to go. Not only are you a shitty suggestion getter, you are a bad person because you got mad. Way to fucking go." I tried to shut it out. Re-invest in the moment during notes. It rang louder and longer. Rehearsal was dismissed and I put my headphones in. I rushed to the restroom where I began to sob. I began to repeat, "You're so stupid, nobody likes you." over and over which evolved into a simple "Stupid stupid stupid," like a fucked up mantra. I couldn't control my hands or body. They were at the mercy of my emotions. After many minutes of this, I left the bathroom with tear soaked eyes and the strongest face I could find. I hurried to my dorm two blocks away. I barely made it outside before it started again. I saw my improv group a block ahead of me laughing and having a wonderful time, solidifying the idea that people do loathe me and were perfectly fine without me. My brain even told me they were better. I scanned into my dorm building, pressed all the necessary elevator buttons and shot into my dorm like a rocket. I ripped my clothes off and sat on the bathroom floor rocking back and forth, silently crying. My roommates were home and though they probably got that something was up by my instant bathroom usage, I didn't want them to hear me crying and breaking down. I got in the shower with the intent to wash the emotions out of me. I put Hurt by Johnny Cash on repeat and sat in the shower. I let it hit me as I let the emotions hit me. They would only control me tonight, now, not tomorrow. I stared at my wrist wondering if those kids in middle school had it right, would it feel better, would it relieve my pain? I decided, no. Feel this. Do not repress. Do not hurt yourself physically to try to "fix me" emotionally. After about 20 minutes, I stopped sobbing and just began singing. I felt better. I  I let it wash over me.

The next day, I felt sluggish, probably because I was up until 2am writing a dumb paper only to write it again from 10am until it was due at 3:30pm, but I still felt negative. I thought it would work like it did when I felt this before.

Perhaps some feelings don't leave overnight, maybe it takes time and slow reminders of our worthiness. I have so many things to be thankful for and so many talents that I am blessed with but also so many demons to overcome. Insecurity can sneak up on you and attack you like it did me. Don't fight it with numbing, ask it why. Why you are feeling it? Where did it come from? How can you help it leave you safely and permanently? At least that's what I'm trying to do.

I am worthy of love and acceptance and so are you, my dear reader. Also talk to someone if you're feeling like this. That's the real healthy way to deal with it. I'm gonna try my best to call someone and I hope you can too.

So with that, I leave you. I'll be back sooner next time, I promise.

Thanks for listening. Come back for more.