I know the second I get really sad. I reach for the computer not because I think writing will help (though sometimes it does) but because the words seem to be my final connection to sanity.
Insane is allowing my moods and actions to be reactions of other people's moods and actions. Logically I don't get the correlation but it is my mental reality.
I haven't had a particularly bad day. I just got in from the gym. I had a good workout. Not a great workout because I can't help but feel people's eyes on me and I hear the voice inside that tells me they are criticizing me, that I don't measure up, that I'm not good enough. I ignored them well during the workout, mostly because it's hard to concentrate on breathing and negativity at the same time.
But now I'm home, in bed and the feeling gets louder, descends upon me. I look at my boyfriend beside me, and I feel I'm not good enough. The list starts getting longer for all that I just suck at and all that is wrong with me. I start spiraling into despair. I figure I'll write about it. This crushing feeling in my heart.
I don't know why I don't love myself, I know it's illogical to expect it of others when I myself am tolerating my existence. Change I should. But even if I knew where to start would there be a point to it at all?
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