I feel like I’m moving in reverse — that I was born a baby who grew into a woman, who then started growing into a teenager, and eventually became this possibly childlike being who still has the common sense and wisdom of [close to] a successful woman. I feel like the rewind button has been pressed, and I can’t figure out how to stop it so that I can make it go forward again.
And I’m back to feeling like I need approval for anything and everything again. Last year, I told myself I wasn’t going to do that; I was going to try my very best to not feel the need to have approval for things. And because I fell back into that need-for-approval-that-brings-acceptance pit, I’ve lost control of myself again and started letting the points of views of others affect me.
And I’m not happy. I’m not going to be doing that as long as I can help it. I’m tired of feeling as though I need to be accepted. I already struggle with fitting in, even in the blogging world, because of all of the crap that happens to me. I’m tired of going in reverse, because it’s eating me away. I’m tired of people I cut from my life finding their way back into it. If I cut you out and you want to wobble your way back into it somehow, then be my guest. My life, my point of view, my fucking blog, my laptop, my family, my emails, my social media accounts, my secret to unveil.
And that’s okay. I don’t need acceptance in order to do what I want to do. I don’t need to be told I’m good enough to be your friend if I’m not your friend, or that you doesn’t mind my health. I don’t need to be told that you think I have an advantage in society because I have these disorders and whatnot and have more love than I do hate. I don’t need to be told those things only because you want me to believe that you accept me. Because words are simply minuscule voices in comparison to actions and whatnot.
Feeling like I need to be accepted? That creates a potion of rage and anger and frustration and hate that continues to boil below my skin.
I’ve hit the “I don’t care” checkpoint. And I’m calling checkmate. I’m not succumbing to the temptation of being a hothouse flower even though it’s much less complex and stressful in a greenhouse.
(Song starts at 3:30)