Just this past weekend, I had a lapse. I'm generally a drama queen - my friends can vouch for that - but the pulsating heart ache that day was something I wouldn't hyperbolise, no matter how facetious I'm being. It struck suddenly and was so paralysing that my hand jerked to my chest and I held it there while I cried in a way that would have gotten a nod from Meryl Streep. I felt myself curl at the trunk but I couldn't lay or sit, so I just stood there, feet solidly on the floor as I made sad sounds and my face got wetter and wetter.
I wished I could properly describe to you what went through my head at the point, but all I can say is that it was a lot of black and an overwhelming ringing, I guess that's what hate looks like. Or anger. Or indignance. Or a lot of self-loathing. I don't really know because I don't allow myself to be subjected to them very much.
As the episode came to a pathetic, whimpering end, I finger-stabbed a message to B, who's been off frolicking in Europe for weeks now. I told him I was having one of those days where I was so, so mad at him but I hoped his trip was going great (I'm SUCH a good person). A reply came back a few hours later. Three lines. And, of course, like a hormonal teenage girl, I over-analysed the shit out of those three messages.
"Hi love"
NO YOU DON'T GET TO CALL ME "LOVE'" EXCUSE YOU FUCK OFF YOU ARE NOT A NICE GENIAL OLD WOMAN WORKING THE CASHIER. TAKE YOUR ~!**!**!~~LOVE~*~**~8~~ AND GIVE IT TO SOME OTHER NAIVE THOT WHO WILL LAP IT UP OK
"*emoji of girl holding up hands in an X"
WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?? WHAT X? WHAT DO YOU NOT WANT TO BE A PART OF? MY RAGE??? LOL OK CAN BUT YOU FUCKING CAUSED IT SO TOO BAD YOU ARE THE REASON FOR ALL THIS STUPID CRYING. AND THE WAY MY LIFE IS. I AM BETTER THAN THIS OK FUCK U AND YOUR AMBIGUOUS EMOJI YOU COULD HAVE AT LEAST CHOSEN SOMETHING THAT ATTEMPTED TO MAKE YOU LOOK A LITTLE SORRY SO THAT I CAN SLEEP GOOD AT NIGHT KNOWING YOU'RE STILL A LITTLE GUILTY
"Europe is amazing."
FUCK YOU I KNOW EUROPE IS AMAZING. IS IT AMAZING BECAUSE YOUVE BEEN SO FUCKING STONED EVERYDAY. IS IT BECASUE YOUVE BEEN FUCKING BITCHES ERRDAY AND NOBODY CARES THAT YOU HAVE HSV OR MAYBE IT'S BECAUSE YOU DIDN'T FUCKING TELL THEM FUCK YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU
I was so, so angry! But I rolled my eyes, locked my phone and tossed it aside. It didn't warrant a textual reply. Although, if anyone knows how to send shitty energy through the cosmos all the way to Europe, let me know. Like,if there's an app or something. Hit me up.
Mom called me for dinner a bit later and I sipped on tea while my head was furiously concocting war cries for when I decide to torch this bitch. So far I've narrowed it down to the very unoriginal but satisfying "BURN, MUTHAFUCKA, BURN" and an uncreative but to-the-point "SORRY I FORGOT TO TELL YOU I WAS CRAZY AND WOULD KILL YOU IF YOU GAVE ME HSV".
My chest swelled again, and I felt my eyes ready itself for another flood. I excused myself and cried some more. This time I kicked over the pile of fresh laundry in my room and threw wild punches in the air until I became exhausted. I lay on top of the laundry and kept quiet. It was over.
I HATE being upset. Which is, really, the simple basis of this blog in the first place. I was sick of people whining about their HSV and reading about how badly it has gotten the better of them, and I wanted to tell people that I'm fine without them raising an eyebrow and giving me a condescending "You sure?"
YES I'M SURE THANK YOU VERY MUCH.
The point of this place is to spread awareness and positive unicorn energy to anyone reading (thank you, all ONE of you x), but I can't lie to you and say that it doesn't get under my skin sometimes. It's way rarer now than a few weeks ago, but it happens and it's not pretty at all.
I don't like indulging in self-pity or telling my problems to most people because these are MY devils, and I don't want anyone else to fight them for me when I know they have their own to take down. That's why it tends to build up inside. It's only when I have someone I truly trust listen to me, or when it works up a knot in my throat that can only be released through uncontrollable crying, do I feel better. It might not be the best route to stable mental health, but it's the way I know and am most comfortable with for now.
When these lapses happen, I see them coming. It's like I'm on a beach* and I see the undulations get fuller and closer to each other until it works up into a huge, curling wave. Its shadow crawls up from the shore so that the entire stretch of sand its dark for ONE second before all the water slaps the Earth and crashes into everything.
Why don't I haul ass and get off the fucking beach? Because I want to hit rock bottom once in a while so I can put myself together from scratch. When that happens, I think about the pieces of me I want to leave out and anything new I want to add in. It's a workshop for a new mindset, and it really does freshen the perspective. Seaspray is good for your skin.
But really, the key to your heatbreak/ache/pain is the awareness that it ends at some point. Nobody should be blamed for the way you feel (Yes, B, not even YOU. But don't be smug about it), and the only reason you feel the way you do is because you let yourself be affected by whatever fucked up thing your person pulled on you. It's not easy to do - clearly, what with the ugly lapse I just had. But you do it because feeling like dirty ballsacks is a waste of time and energy.
You're hardly productive when you're down, and if you're stagnant, you get sucked into a vicious cycle of nothing changing for yourself so you keep whining about how everything is terrible and nothing is changing so you keep whining about how everything is....you get it.
Be happy. But if you need to be sad, do it. Just make sure you kick it out before it gets clingy and starts leaving its toothbrush in your bathroom.
*Unlikely, because I don't like the beach, but stick with me and my unnecessarily long-winded metaphor
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