I have such a persistent, innate need for reassurance… I spend a lot of time by myself, and I act like I don’t give a shit what people think. But whenever I do something, especially a piece of writing, I will drive myself insane with doubt until someone tells me I did a good job.
The worst part of it is that people don’t realise it about me, so they assume I know I’ve done well. I do usually know on some level that I’ve done alright, but I tend to write this off as me being presumptuous. My writing isn’t too bad, and I know that. Logically, I know that. But every essay, every poem, every yearbook piece I produce, I’m second-guessing every word and silently freaking out that it is, in fact, trash.
And the fact that critique never fails to kill a little part of me doesn’t help. When I see criticism, even constructive criticism, on my posts, I have to force myself to read it, and it really shakes me. But I am grateful for it.
It’s not because I’m prideful and think I’m fantastic. But I have a competitive streak in me that always shines through when I’m doing something I’m passionate about, and when I’m not the best and someone finds fault with something I do, it’s hard to deal with. I get actually angry when someone is better than me at writing, or Latin, or whatever. I don’t display it outwardly, and I know it’s utterly ridiculous and someone will always be more accomplished, but inside I’m seething and simultaneously becoming more and more insecure.
That’s the word. Insecure. I’m so insecure. I’m hyper-aware of everything I do, every reaction someone has to me, taking it all in and processing it all a million times, probably incorrectly. This just adds to my lovely anxiety, and as I slowly become convinced that what someone said is negative and they are displeased with me, I then become sure I’m not good enough, which destroys my mood and self-confidence, which then feeds nicely into that wonderful thing called depression.
Where did this post start? Need for reassurance? I didn’t even know it would end up where it did. Sorry about that. This is very stream-of-consciousness. I might make a more coherent post about it another time. I refuse to make promises, though, cause I’m incapable of keeping them.
I’m going to go read myself to sleep now. Nightynight you beautiful people. I have a lot of affection and am lavishing it on you because I can’t give it to my sort-of-boyfriend cause we’re sort-of-broken-up and it’s sort-of-my-fault. So you are all so unbelievably fantastic and I appreciate you so much. And I thank you for reading anything I write. xxxxxxxx ❤