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| Image is of black boots in front of 'Mind the Gap' printed on a train platform. |
I spent a large portion of my life feeling like I didn't belong. I felt
that I was inherently broken as a human being. The one and only redeeming quality
I had was being 'smart'. Adults liked me because I was quiet, smart and
responsible. Anybody who was my friend was only tolerating me, and I felt like
I had to be careful with what I did, or people would be scared off by who I really
was. These feelings were only intensified by growing up in poverty and constant
instability. It was like there was a glowing neon sign above my head saying poor, weird kid; avoid at all costs. In my teenage years I was consumed by
depression, anxiety and suicidal ideation. I felt convinced that I simply would not make
it out of my twenties, if I made it that far at all. It seemed a sure deal that
the monsters in my head would win sooner, versus later. I felt like I simply
didn't belong in this world.
Somehow, I did make it. Here I am, thirty-five years old and not only
am I alive.. but I find myself strangely thriving and surrounded by people
who.. love me? There are times that the intensity to which I feel overcome by
love makes my chest ache. Even the good feelings are so strong that they cause
me pain sometimes. But, if I'm honest, that particular pain of being
overwhelmed by love feels rather delicious. There are still these voices in the back of my
head saying 'How can this be real?' I still fall down the wormhole of
depression sometimes. Then, those voices get louder and they say, 'Stop
bothering these people, they don't actually love you.' I'm slowly getting
better at fighting those voices.
To celebrate the momentous occasion of turning thirty-five, I decided
to throw myself a birthday party. My husband, because he spoils me, took it to
level eleven. As the day inched closer, my anxiety began to rise. Nobody is
going to come. Nobody is going to make the time for me. It's stupid to think
all these people want to come to a party about me. That scared, weird kid was
wearing holes in the floor as she paced back and forth in my mind. But, she was
wrong. She was so very wrong. My friends came to celebrate me. Family came to
celebrate me. It was a glorious mix of old friends that I've deepened a bond
with and new friends that I've opened my heart to. My husband hung up a banner
that people could write notes on. The first time I tried to read it, I couldn't
even finish it, because I started crying. I was awash in that physical pain
caused by actually believing that people love me. And, they love me despite my
inner, broken weird girl. The same thing happened when I opened the gifts and
cards people brought me. Even now, thinking about the incredible things people
wrote to me sends pulses through my chest.
This weekend, our beloved pup ended his journey on Earth. That's the most I can write about that at this point in time. I felt consumed
and I fell into the pit. It was that uneasy combo of searing emotional pain and
a heaviness to your limbs and mind. And, then the most unbelievable thing
happened. An ocean of love swept in around me, to lift me up and surround me.
That same love that surrounded me in a time of joy, came back to surround me in
a time of pain. I showed the world my messy, hurting self and the love didn't
run away. The disbelief still lingers in my mind. Why do I deserve this? Why do
people stick with me? Perhaps the disbelief will always be there. But, every
day I fill my cracks a little more. Every day I believe a little more. I am
more than tolerated and I have worth. Thank you for seeing something different
than I see myself, and being a mirror that shows me another reflection. Thank
you for loving me, and loving the anxious, weird girl that still lives in my
head.
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