one day, i hope to look back at my present self and laugh – for all the moments that could have been dealt with more grace, the moments that seemed like the world was gonna shatter because of one wrong word, an insensitive action inflicted upon me (the melodramatic victim, always).
i relish in my self pity, feeling miserable over nothing in particular. theres a part of me that is truly convinced that i love feeling sorry for myself and no one else can sympathize as much as i do (for myself). old habits die hard, especially on a past built on self-hatred, negative energies, always wanting more.
i balance between thinking im the badass queenpin that controls this world (and this is where my narcissism peaks through), to feeling im a nobody, no voice, no worth (and this is the side of me dictated by my withering mental health).
when i talk to my therapist about my identity crisis, she says that maybe im already on the side of the greener grass, that ive grown so accustomed to my world where the vibrancy and brilliance, the novelty of it all, have dulled out into muted earth tones with shades of blue splotched in between.
maybe im so used to wearing my loewe sunglasses with blue tinted lens, the color is getting lost in translation. im not taking them off though – i refuse to take them off.
maybe i just cant stop being hard on myself and putting myself down for all of the things i dont know instead of celebrating the things i do know (pity parties for one are much easier than me recognizing my strengths).
maybe im not as lost as i feel – maybe i take things for granted.
maybe i need to lose what i have in order to appreciate it.
but for now, i take comfort in hiding behind my loewe sunglasses and i make peace with the blues, just so i can throw my own pity party.