My work is the one thing that I can point out to myself and say, “I’m good at this. This is what I succeed at, and that I can feel proud of and that I am happy to say I can do well.” And when no one else recognizes that, I feel like I am worth nothing, like I contribute zero anything to life and that I am not good at the one thing I am passionate about.
Today I feel like I contribute nothing to the lives of others, and I feel like people wouldn’t care if I didn’t even exist.
These are the days that remind me of who I used to be, the days that remind me of when I would hurt myself because I hoped someone would notice, and to gain some control of my own life. I will never go back to that. But it reminds me. And it hurts even more to think that there are still things going on now, outside of that terrible time that can still make me feel as miserable as I did then.
I hate when people nit-pick word choice. Example, let’s say I have allergies, and I say to someone after sneezing violently:
"I ‘hate’ flowers."
And then they say:
"Um, excuse me? The word hate uncomfortably edges on ‘botanical plant-slaughtering demon,’ could you please not say the word hate anymore, k thanks?"
Be quiet, you know I wasn’t using the word to mean I actually want all forms of vegetation to wither at my feet.