Total Eclipse of the Heart.

So…it’s my birthday today. Or it will be when I publish this article. And to be honest, I’m not happy about it. Not that I'm afraid of growing older, that I don’t mind. But like T-Swift said “sometimes I feel like I get older but just never wiser”. And midnights have definitely become my afternoons. And I'll be honest, I haven’t known peace since December. But instead of slitting my wrist, or throwing myself into Tempe town lake, I engage in other high risk self sabotaging behavior like drugs, drinking, listening to SZA, and alienating every person who possibly cares about me. 

And now that I'm thinking about it, I haven’t known a moment of peace since I was thirteen.  

But alas, I am a victim of my own undoing. Why? Because I have a raging god complex with an ever present undercurrent of self loathing. Am I just an Aries, or am I severely mentally ill? The world may never know. 

But between me and you? 

I don’t think I want to get better. A part of me enjoys the sweet agony and I embrace it like a childhood friend. Because without it, who would I be? 

And that’s the million dollar question innit? Who would I be if not a suffering sack of flesh? 

What would I do if I actually had to face the fear of seeing who I truly am? 

So who am I? 

I’ve been described as complicated but to me there's nothing complicated about malignant narcissism. In fact I think in all my complexities, I’m actually quite simple. I tend to live for thrills and highs that benefit me without thinking about, or reckoning with the consequences of whatever whims I was feeling at the time. I’m incredibly self serving, wildly unpredictable, impulsive, neurotic, and ornery(it’s even on my IG profile). And I'll be honest, I don’t know why I'm like this (My therapist has her ideas). I grew up in a good home, surrounded by a family that loves me, had all my needs met and then some. I think I'm such a good argument for nature vs. nurture because my nature is a direct contradiction to how I was nurtured. 

I am also disturbingly jaded. 

But if you’re a longtime reader of this blog, you already knew that. I am ready to see the absolute worst in people (men) and am often surprised when someone comes to me with pure intentions. Is that projection? Probably. Nevertheless, I believe in preemptively hurting someone before they hurt me. I’ve seen what loving someone with my whole heart did the first time and you can either call it PTSD or being smart but I've never loved anyone like that since. A large part of me doesn't believe in giving someone else the knife hoping they don’t turn and use it against you. And that’s what I believe romantic love is. I worked in a funeral home, I know what a crime of passion looks like. I honestly think that people (women) are insane for loving others (men). You could say that I don’t believe in love but that is a vast overestimation. I believe that love exists but it’s too flighty of a concept for me. Because I think underneath it all. 

I’m afraid. 

Afraid that if I let someone in too close they would see all the parts of me I try (unsuccessfully) to keep hidden. Packed away under a litany of hard layers is just a woman who desperately wants someone to see the darkness in her and choose to cherish it like light. But that is a big ask. And I'm not naive enough to ask that of anyone in any real way. It’s also a stark contradiction to my outward appearance (I am actually unhinged). I am also afraid of love itself. Outkast once said “If what they say is nothing is forever, then what makes love the exception?” and I took that personally. From what I've experienced, the lyrics ring true. Feelings are not permanent, people fall out of love all the time. I find that men are often intoxicated by my initial devil-may care attitude. I've been told on numerous occasions that my erratic behavior is part of my charm. But ultimately that wears off and they realize that I'm in fact unlovable. It’s like a really f*cked up feedback loop. I shut off my emotions to not feel the hurt, only to be betrayed by the same emotion I was trying to shut off in the first place once I let my guard down. But by not letting my guard down, I am denying myself the fullness of the human experience. In other words. 

I still struggle with vulnerability. 

One of the first articles I wrote on this blog was about vulnerability. At the time I was twenty-three. Five years later, I still haven’t figured out how to be truly vulnerable with another human being. And it seems with every passing year it gets harder. I suffered a tragic miscarriage that I'm still feeling the ripple effects of, and I was posting selfies on IG the next day like it never happened. I’m being stalked by some random forty-three year old man, all my friends are probably moving away this year, I was sexually assaulted at a bar, I saw my ex-fiance at a restaurant, and my mental health is probably currently at an all time low. I am not okay and this is the first time I'm really admitting it. And I know, therapy. But I can’t even be vulnerable with the damn person who’s whole purpose is to help me work through what I’m feeling and going through. I really slap a big “It is what it is” label on everything and keep it pushing. 

But I’m tired. 

Tired of pretending i’m not a f*cked up person, tired of pretending i’m alright, tired of pretending I enjoy life, tired of fake smiles, lonely days with even lonelier nights, crying myself to sleep in silence, self sabotage. 

Honestly, I’m tired of being myself. 

But I can’t be anyone else. So until I sign up for that lobotomy, I guess I’m stuck. Here. Wishing sh*t was different and escaping reality anyway I can.

Anyway…that was a long winded way of wishing myself a redacted birthday.