I have certain characteristics… and a very particular set of skills…
No, seriously. Specific traits and abilities come to mind when I think of myself… and I imagine when others think of me, too. (Assuming anyone other than ‘me’ ever thinks about ‘me’.) Some things have become so closely associated with me that they’ve become expectations… they’ve become who I am.
Creative. Intelligent. Funny. Talented. Sarcastic.
Coffee addict. Writer. Artist. Baker. Wearer of all things black.
These things are me. I embrace them.
And then there are these…
Negative. Sad. Lonely. Hopeless. Anxious. Cynical.
These things are also me. I think part of me embraces these, too. Which, I know, sounds totally nuts.
It’s not intentional. Not really. But they have become a part of me. And much like losing my brains or my coffee addiction, losing these feels like I’m losing me. It feels like I’m going to disappoint someone who thinks they know me.
What the hell kind of fucked up is that? Truly. If there is anyone out there who isn’t going to like me anymore because I’m no longer sad or hopeless or negative… fuck them! Right?
So why does it feel like I’m not being ‘true to myself’ if I feel good? What the hell is that?!?
I don’t understand me. I am messed up. I don’t want to be sad and hopeless.
Cynical… well, that’s different. That’s never going away.
©2017 what sandra thinks