And Then I Cried

‘Fun, funny, socially and morally aware.’  These are the words that a dear friend of mine wrote to describe me.  And it made me cry.  I know it’s all positive stuff and I should be happy and say Thank You for the compliment, but to me, it sounds foreign.  All wrong.  That’s not me.  That’s not how I feel about myself.  At all.  And what does it mean when everyone else sees you as one thing, and you see yourself as –not that?

I am socially awkward.

I am too short.

I am not smart enough.

I am very opinionated.

I am not comfortable in crowds.

I am not pretty.

I am obsessive compulsive.

I am reserved.

I am too nice.

I am angry.

I am sad.

I am scared.

I am tired.

My friends and family probably look at me and think I have it all together.  But when I look in the mirror, all I see is someone desperately struggling to hold all the pieces in place.  And I’m not one to share this kind of information –how would I even explain what I’m feeling.  Besides, my problems seem so trivial compared to the real struggles facing everyone else.  It’s strange how I can be so strong and supportive for others, but I can’t fix me.

Sleep is my only escape because I can turn it all off.  The awareness of my failures.  Off.  The struggles with my family.  Off.  The daily grind.  Off.  My fears.  Off.  Only to rise again in the morning, slap on a smile, and struggle through another day.  I’m just going through the motions, doing what is expected of me.  Like a robot.  This is not living.