Well…This is inconvenient.

I’ve been tearing up on and off today and just feeling all around bad. What’s wrong with me? Can’t there just be a simple explanation for it all…please? Or a simple way out.

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Space

I need time to myself. I haven’t had a moment to myself in almost two weeks. I love you, but fuck this wasn’t the best idea. I need a moments peace and then I want my own time with just me, my books, and my crochet needles. AND THEN SOME TIME WITH MY SISTER BECAUSE OMYGOD. I just want us all to be happy and healthy again. The more I think about it the more I realize that I’ve been sad and anxiety ridden for as long as I can remember. I just never recognized or acknowledged it I guess? Or I’m crazy and over thinking all of it. Fuck if I know. Which is partly why I’m so scared to go to the doctor for it. What if they blow me off? What if how I feel is completely normal and I’m stuck like this? I think that’s what I’m most afraid for. I feel so abnormal and foggy most of the time but what if it is normal, what if it isn’t something that can or needs to be fixed? What if I’m just not a driven or passionate person? What if I just don’t care? That isn’t a way I want to live. If I have to live like that, I’m not sure I want to live at all. 

I just…

Why am I still stuck on him? Why can’t I move on? Why is this so hard? Why does this hurt so badly? Why do I miss him? Why do I want him to hold me and never let go? Even though I know he’s not over her and they’re fucking again. I know these things and I know he’ll never want me like he wants her, but I pine after him anyway. I know where this road leads, and it’s nowhere good. So why can’t I turn around?

Insecurity

I’m learning to take the good with the bad and vice versa. But I just can’t seem to shake this feeling of inadequacy…or not even that…I just feel lost? Everyone else seems to be so sure of who they are, what they love, and where they want to go in life. I put up the front that I have it all together and I know what I want, but I haven’t a clue. I know there are certain things that I love and appreciate and I’m passionate about, but there’s not really anything that I’m so interested in I want to dive into it and learn everything I can. I want that kind of passion. I want to learn and love and live; I want to be more interesting and when someone asks what I’m good at, I want to have an answer. I don’t think I’m particularly good at anything and it feels like I’m just rolling through life with nothing particularly special about me and I hate that. 

This is why I’m so insecure about who I am; or rather, who I’m not. 

Questions

I want love and hope and happiness. Why don’t I deserve that? Why was I dealt the cards that I was? Am I really that terrible to deserve to feel so lost? How do I find myself? Where do I go? What do I do with my life? Will I ever be loved? Will I ever feel secure in who I am? Why do I hate my body? Why am I so fat? Why am I so hairy? Why do I have to hate food so much? Why do I hate food and still crave so much of it? Why?

Will I ever recover?

Daddy issues–Aww…I’m a stereotype.

My dad texted me last night. He said he was sorry, yet again and he said the he wants to fix what we have. I want that so badly. I want to be able to be one of those girls who’s proud to have a great relationship with her dad and who can go to him for comfort. He was just a source of so much hurt and pain for so long. I never realized it, but the way my dad talked to me when I was a pre-teen/teen resulted in my anxiety, low self worth, and ultimately depression. Now it’s not entirely his fault, because I could have worked on our relationship as well; but I was the hormonal teenager and he was the grown adult. He should have been the one to diffuse arguments, not escalate them by coming back at me with insults twice as bad. He made me feel like I’d never be good enough. Like I was too mean, weird, and awful of a person for anyone to want to be my friend. That’s not what dads are supposed to do. They’re supposed to lift you up and make you feel like you can conquer the world. 

My daddy did that. Until I grew up and he didn’t.