When I was a teenager I used to have bouts of sheer misery. Days or weeks that would go by where I couldn't sleep, couldn't smile, could not pull myself out of the deep dark funk. Usually these gloomy periods were due to some sort of rejection, by a boy, a teacher, or a school play director. I took everything so very personally. That has always been my nature. A "no", a sneer, a shrug of the shoulders was always an indication of what I lacked. It was representative of what I wasn't, what I was too much of, or what my ugly, evil core deserved.
Along the way I grew up and experienced these sinister feelings of self loathing less. I like to think it is because I matured and grew more self confident, but in reality it may be simply because as life went on I experienced less rejection. In college I got the guy, a faithful boyfriend who stood by me through it all, I got the friends, the grades and the attention I craved.
I got married, got the jobs, the house and the life that I wanted. It made it easy to push away the ugly feelings, the despair, the self-loathing.
But it is so precarious. My happiness due so much to outside circumstance and affirmation. A small slight and I find myself sliding back into the dreary dungeon of depression. When I couldn't easily conceive, I blamed my body for it's incompetence and hated it endlessly. When a friendship fails, I always blame myself for my lack of charisma, when someone ways no, it is always, always because I'm not enough.
I am a relatively intelligent woman. So when will I ever be able to push this nonsense away? When will I ever stop internalizing every no, every mistake, every failure? I should know better. I should stop feeling it so damn much. Yet, at almost 39, I often feel it just as deeply and painfully as I did in adolescence.
When, when will I ever learn?