Yes, I stole the title of the book I’m sure many of you have read. But it fits perfectly with this post. This won’t be about books.
I’m already crying my eyes out and I haven’t written anything.
One year ago today I lost my grandma. It was the single worst day I’ve experienced in my 27 years. I haven’t had a good day since then. I’ve had a few okay days, but oh so many absolutely terrible ones. On the outside I look fine. No one in public or at work has any idea anything is wrong. Even the few who do know, don’t. Not really.
When she died it was part of a chain of events that continued throughout the year that I haven’t overcome. It’s so easy to get a glimpse into someone else’s life and think all is well. They don’t have to worry about money? They have a nice place to live? They try to travel as much as they can? They work for a Fortune 100 company with lots of potential growth opportunities? They must be doing so well!
All of those describe me. And I’m not doing well at all.
No one understands my feeling of not being good enough for anything. Not good enough for a better job. Not good enough for people to genuinely care about me as a person. Not good enough to be in a relationship. Not deserving to be happy. And on and on.
I have maybe 5 friends. I should take the blame because I’m the lone constant in the endless line of people leaving. Honestly, I don’t expect to regularly talk to any of them by year’s end. It’s just how things are. But when I’m really having a terrible time I only turn to 1. Or when it gets really bad, my ex. Lately I’ve stopped saying anything to anyone because who wants to be the person constantly bothering someone else about how bad things are? Or the person who never has their shit together? Or worse, the person pitied by others? Not me. Especially when I do reach out just to talk and get nothing in response.
I know there are so many people out there feeling the same as I do. But still my feelings are only mine. No one walks in my shoes just the same as I don’t walk in anyone else’s.
I don’t know what the best course of action is. Therapy, probably. Which I haven’t done because I’m too embarrassed. If someone asked me to my face why I feel the way I do I wouldn’t have an answer. And quite honestly, I’d just break down.
My birthday was recently. I visited my grandma because she would always sing me happy birthday. I cried alone at the cemetery for an hour and went home and went to sleep. Remember those maybe 5 friends I mentioned? Not one said anything. Not one.
When all of this really began in late 2017 I never thought I’d get to 2019 and feel worse. But here I am. Yet I want to end with something positive. When someone makes an impact on you or simply helps you through some rough patches, let them know. You might feel silly or nervous or awkward, but I promise the other person will appreciate knowing they’ve helped you along the way. I cannot think of anything negative that can come from a genuine message of “I really appreciate everything you do for me.” Can you?
I’m still crying. And that’s okay.
If you read this far, thank you. I know this didn’t flow well at all.
PS: I got this in October as a daily reminder to just trust myself. I’m still working on it.
Johnny Reads 