Me? I've never been one for just "putting on a brave face". I certainly put on a face - make up! The answer to every problem! Darling darling darling, MAC before Prozac - but when bad things happen, or I'm confused and can make no sense of the world and people who inhabit it and there just seems to be no hope, at all...I tend to give into urge to crumble.
This is no hyperbole. When a situation arises that could evoke misery, I generally sieze it. When an opportunity to mime and wail along to "Lovefool" in the mirror pops up, I grab the hair brush. If a sad song comes on when I'm in the back of the car and it is relatable to my predicament in some way, I will look out the window, mournfully, like I am in a music video, and it is what the director wants.
What I'm trying to say is - I'm sort of not in a happy place, at the moment, and I can't seem to break out of this little bubble of discontent and disappointment. Things have happened, words have been said - I needn't disclose any proper details. The new shades of ruby that now weave through my hair have failed to make me more fiery and less of a wuss in life. I am still no more of a "lionheart", bold and gallant in the face of adversity (or a particularly shit boy - oh dear, did I disclose something?) but still a rabbit, still overwhelmed when caught in headlights, still getting upset easily, and far too deeply.
There is a sadness sinking in my stomach, my fighting spirit is going down with it and like an idiot, I've failed to resist that happening.
So what is the point of this blog? Usually I have a clear focus that has been pre-planned and researched with the precision of an invading army, but today I have simply opened up BlogSpot and let my fingertips flutter on the keyboard without thinking through things too thoroughly. Even now, I am looking at the title of this blog - a Smiths lyric - and knowing I will wake up at some point tonight, freeze in horror underneath the quilt and scold myself for at least an hour. "You are a melodramatic cow. Everybody thinks you're a loser. You probably will end up as alone and bitter as bloody Morrissey himself. Get a real diary or something" oh, this will happen. It will.
But in all honesty, the only real point of this post is to "write something and feel better". That is simply it.
Yes, I just needed to write this down. I needed to find what I couldn't find in tears, angry Tweets I typed too quickly to consider and brutally sarcastic texts, and I have found it. I'm feeling better already. I have let those negative feelings consume my good energy and beat me once, today. But I will not let them do it again.
If you are experiencing something similar, I hope you will do the same.
