Since I can remember, I've had this phase when I physically hurt to get out of bed. I just want to be left alone under a rock. My mother tried to deal with it as much as she could, and once I moved out, it's been harder to do it alone. I have my own house to worry about so I have to push myself to resume my normal activities; and as soon as I step out of the house, I feel the sunlight melting my skin off. My heart accelerates, increasing the speed of my breathing, and making my stomach sick. I get dizzy, I am terrified to make any noise, I am angry at people for looking at me. I am disgusted with myself and the way I look and the way I inhale and exhale, and my hair growing the wrong way, and how my nails are shaped. The little details start to surface, and my eyes can spot every single one. I just want to find a safe place and remain there, away from everyone, scared shitless, horrified at the thought of burying my nails in my arms and take chunks of my flesh to make the internal pain a little more bearable. I call this phase my UGLY DAYS, and they are part of me in a regular basis. I've never told this to anybody, and it's embarrassing to admit this at my age, but I sadly believe I'm not the only one.
I usually laugh at myself for the silliest things that cross my mind, but there was a time when I couldn't do that. My thick skin has been hardwork and a lot of ugly situations that I stupidly put myself in. With time, I got better at letting things slide, and not take myself seriously when it comes to my feelings getting hurt. In the famous words of Eric Matthews from Boy Meets World,
"tough luck, get a helmet!" and that's what I did. And it worked. There are times when the helmet gets heavy to carry around everywhere though. Even at my age, words still hurt.
Yeah, I have self-esteem issues, but that's not news, I've known this only my whole life; and I also have trust issues in myself as in every one else around me, but that's not a biggie, I only use my sarcasm to express my frustration and alienate people out of my life. My insecurities have made sure to kick in always at the right moments, never missing a beat. I've gotten used to it, and I found ways to ignore them. I put myself right in the spotlight. Maybe it's just hiding myself by getting all the attention to myself, the opposite of what I want, but it works.
We all have issues, and I guess that's the main point of this entry, the reason of our existence must be to find a way to live with them, master them, show the world we can make them our bitch, and continue on living. We gotta face our fears, find out why we are terrified, and find a way to overcome them. Step by step. Don't jump all at once if you're not ready for the splash. We gotta start slowly, so you don't shy away if the first time doesn't work; remember what Aaliyah said,
"if at first you don't succeed, dust yourself off and try again..."
I know, I've been quoting here and there, but it's my positive attitude and enthusiasm that has gotten me through those Ugly Days. The bright side of every situation is what keeps me going, and it's hard to find one, but there is. Breathe slowly, close your eyes, breathe in again, and you'll see it. Then ask yourself if there's anything you can do to change the situation, and if there is, then go ahead and don't waste time thinking about it. Be about it. I never thought I'd be able to work at a clothing store because of my looks and stuff, and look at me now, dressing other men in suits and what-nots; and the clinic, because of my thick accent, I was terrified to pick up phones and taking important messages for doctors, but I am still doing it. I have to put myself out there and get going. Of course I get the one asshole saying that he can't understand what I say, but I know I'm smart and stronger to take their shit so I play along, and put them back in their place. I guess my sarcasm and being rude when it's needed is the shield I need to make it through. Sadly, nobody ever say to play clean. This is a dog-eat-dog world. Sorry about it. Remember to get a helmet.