Isn’t that a song?
My therapist says I’m very good at bending over backwards to make situations manageable for others and figuring out a way to make it ok for myself. But without fail, I always manage to get overwhelmed by it which sets me into a strangely nonsensical panic.
Like, why are you hyperventilating over pancakes? Who panics over delicious breakfast? Pretty much no one unless you have a food allergy.
By the way, that is not what caused my violent, snot driven, tear stained 20 minute episode that ended in a cinnamon roll and a strange man taking photos of me secretly and then saying sorry, its the color of your shirt. For the record, strange man, you need to stop doing that. You are going to get stabbed or sued one day and no one will care that you were trying to be creative.
I don’t even want to share what started all this because even the logical part of my brain is like “GODDAMNIT WHAT IN THE FUCK IS HAPPENING. This doesn’t even make sense.” And the other part is like “YOU THINK I DON’T KNOW THAT FUCKER.” There’s alot of yelling compounded by outside noises and experiences.
And, I’ve been like this my entire life. I go and go and I’m fine and then suddenly I’m hysterical in the guidance counselors office again and they don’t understand why this kid is fucked up. The kid doesnt even understand. The grown up doesnt even get it.
I like giving entire pieces of myself away, but sometimes there isnt enough left to keep me from cracking. And, I don’t want to harp on about how fucking selfless I am because I’m not. I don’t want to be the person who uses guilt for love. I am selfish and vain and I am still trying to figure out how to let shit go. But I still can’t get through a week or two without having a seismic meltdown in my chest.