So, today, I had my first panic attack.
I’ve never understood them. I never understood why they happened. I never understood what they felt like more than what I read in health books. But I sat there… looking at my bank account going “Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit!” because I am going to have an EXTRA car payment I didn’t plan for and know I shouldn’t have gone out to eat or joined a gym or bought food. I don’t know.
Then, it hit me.
2013 has been the year of trust. I have to trust that God will take care of things and that fate will fall into place. I have to. Whether or not I’m “mad” at God still, life happens. I have to learn to cope with that fate… that life. In my mess, I started to cry.
I’ve never dealt with rejection well. Today, of all days, I just started thinking of how I broke up with my ex boyfriend and now, people associated with him and his friends, delete me and talk behind MY back. I don’t understand shady people like that. I don’t understand why people are mean to me when I haven’t even thought a mean thing about them.
Ya know, I would get it… I would get why someone would hate me. I get why people can hate me. I’m loud. I’m obnoxious. I speak my mind. I stand up for what I believe in. I screw up. I’m not perfect. I am good at what I do….
but then, that hit me, too.
What if this whole perception of myself is all a lie?
What if I’m not as cool or awesome or hip or nice as I think I am??? What if I’m just… lame?
I try really hard… and am often misunderstood.
I don’t know how to explain myself OFF the page. I write so I can figure myself out. When I speak, words seem to get confused. I lose myself in my hair twirling or the crack in the wall. Writing… Writing makes sense.
Sitting alone, at home, with my cat, eating ice cream, and watching Grey’s Anatomy, I realized…. I am just like everyone else… yet, I am not like anyone else because I am on my own journey.
This path I’m on others hit earlier and later in life. This path I’m on is my own…. I go slow. I go fast. I skip parts… I repeat parts. But, this path… this is my own.
So, as I glance at mile-marker 300 for the millionth time wondering why people don’t like me, I have to remember to keep going towards my goal. I can’t stop on the side of the road to cry and wonder why someone doesn’t like me or why my boss doesn’t think I’m a good teacher… or why I feel so alone.
I have to press the gas and go.
I can’t let my demons on my journey… because that’s a distraction.
This is my year.
Somehow… I’ll figure out where I am going.