My life is a beautiful disaster. If you are on the outside looking in, you’d see three beautiful girls, a hardworking father, and a mother that is slowly dying on the inside trying to hold it all together. No one said being an adult, being a mother, being a spouse, a friend, or a colleague was going to be easy. It’s just something you turn into. These relationships form, and as much as human connection is vital for our very existence, it is sucking the life right out of me.
These hats we wear on a daily basis are our own creation. We choose the life we live. Most of us wear these hats with pride. I’m not saying I don’t love my mother hat, my spouse hat, or my friend hat; I just know my self hat is crumpled up collecting dust in the corner. I tend to lose the self hat, and find it again, but whenever I place it on top of my other hats a sense of shame and guilt erupt, and I throw that hat back in the corner so it can be lost in the shadows.
I envy the people in my life that have fooled me into believing they have it all together. I mean, let’s be honest, we all know social media is a lying bastard and that majority of the posts are of only the occasional good time someone we know has had in the last week or so. But truly, when you think of the number of “friends” you have and multiply that by 2 or 3 glorified moments, to the depressed person, myself included, that 1000+ “happy” moments are creating this image of a worthless piece of shit that I look at in the mirror everyday.
Now, Christ, Kat! If you know that then why don’t you get off of social media and move back to the stone age where we weren’t so involved in each others made up lives. Isn’t it crazy? To think someone’s self worth, in a negative way, can be defined by positive posts from people we grew up with, served with, or possibly, just some random person, who we know nothing about, but we met them at the bar and now their recent hiking trip with their beautiful fucking family makes me sick because I haven’t left the house with my kids in two days.
Fuck, I sound like a crazy person. More than my diagnosis describes me to be.
Anyways, I know I am not the only crazy person who looks past the reality of social media. It is meant to highlight the positive moments in our lives. No one wants to share their dirty laundry for all the world to see. Hell, I’m too anxious to post anything, so I just go to the safe zone and post shit that people can’t argue with, or feel bad about because in return they look like the asshole, and I don’t want that. A stupid ass opinionated post would keep me up all night until I got up, hastily read through people’s opinions, who clearly have no reflection on my life, and delete that said post so I could breath again. Because how dare I give myself the oppurtunity to have an opinion on current affairs, or how stupid people look when they post a selfie in the same position every God damn day in their mother’s bathroom. You’re going to be 30, get your shit together! But I, being a selfish ass hole, will not comment but fuel the bitterness of the stupidity of this world for fear of someone looking in on my life.
But for those of you screaming at your screen yelling “Who gives a flying fuck?!” I know, I know, I have beaten you to the punch and have decided to publish my second post of 2017, because I am not giving in to that flying fuck you so rudely yelled at me about.
Jokes, I’m doing it for me, and the little guy.