Relationships are hard

I wrote another blog post recently. It talked about an angry demon inside of me, filled with rage and jealousy, that has recently made its appearance into my life again.

I didn’t post it.

For fear of being seen as the monster. For fear of seeing myself as the monster.

Recently, I’ve been down. Like, really down. To a point where my loving and caring boyfriend called me to talk about a rather hard incident that happened to him that day and I ended up complaining to him about my day instead. He told me: “We’re both in a really bad state of mind right now, huh? I’m just going to hang up and we can talk later because neither of us are benefiting from this, obviously.”

The past couple of weeks I haven’t been able to “stabilize” myself. I’ve been struggling with adoption issues (happy birthday to me in a few months, and hello to my abandonment issues), self-identity, and, you guessed it, relationships.

It always seems to come back to relationships in my blog posts, huh? This time, it is not relationships with those around me, but my relationship with myself.

My internal self looks at my external self like this about 63% of the time

I know many people who disagree with the quote “You can’t love others until you love yourself first.” However, I find it to be true for me.

Time periods filled with self-doubt and anger, sadness and loneliness, I tend to lash out, or sit in a slump when I could be reading or playing video games. I cry because I dropped my ice cream spoon on the carpet. I scream because the dishes weren’t done. I become, essentially, a 5’2” demon.

However, it is the “not-quite” periods that are the hardest. When I am not quite angry all the time, but it seems anything sets me off. I am not quite lonely, but I find it difficult to reach out to talk to anyone. I am not quite sad, but if I misread the tone of a text, I’ll become upset.

In these moments, I have found that maintaining a relationship with myself seems almost impossible. I will pick apart every single mistake I made, and go over it a million times until I forget that it was merely a minor spelling error in an email to a coworker. I will be vague as possible in messages, hoping that no one asks “how are you” because I don’t know how to respond. I will stare at myself in the mirror and point out every piece of myself I hate.

When I remember (and trust me, it is really hard to remember sometimes), I look at myself – at my brown eyes that I find to be such a dull brown, with straight lashes that won’t curl, and mono-lidded so that basic makeup tutorials never quite work out right – and I whisper, “Hey, it’s okay.”

Oftentimes, I’ll cry right after that, and let sobs consume my body as I tell myself over and over that it is okay and I watch my reflection as it cries and breaks down, but know that it will be over. It will pass.

Afterwards, I try to do something that makes me happy. Usually, that means eating. Sometimes I write or read, sometimes I get out my DS, but most of the time, food does the trick.

Sometimes it takes hours, sometimes it takes days, but after constantly reminding myself in the mirror that I’m okay and will be okay, I manage to readjust. I can face my problems like an adult, and dissect them using both logic and emotion. I’m able to talk about why I feel certain things, and actually modulate my emotions. I will begin to text others normally again, and be able to listen and empathize with my significant other when he talks about the annoying kid in his class. Slowly, I emerge as my former-self, but I like to think of myself as stronger. I don’t know if that’s actually true.

Relationships are hard, but the one I struggle with the most is the one with myself. But hey, that’s okay, I’ll keep moving forward and growing.

Current favorite post-crying snack: donuts and hot chocolate with a dash of cinnamon



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