Dear Hurt Me: Growing Hurts. It’s Okay.

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How do you continue to love when your heart has been broken so many times before?

When I think of what my heart must look like, I imagine something very damaged.

Very cracked.

Very chipped.

Something torn and tattered.

Bruised.

Used.

Thrown away.

I am struggling.

Because something that should make me extremely happy is making me feel very sad.

What I'm Really Feeling Is Unloved

The title of today's podcast is Dear Hurt Me.

When what I'm really feeling is unloved.

But I know I can't say that.

I can't say:

Hey, Dear Unloved Me.

Because I'm going to get messages saying:

You're loved.

You're wanted.

You're cared for.

And it's not that those messages are untrue.

It just doesn't feel that way at the moment.

I feel very alone.

And scared.

My Words Seem to Be Landing Harder Than I Want Them To

I feel like I'm having to be extra cautious about what I say to people.

They can see that I'm upsetting others, although I have no intention of upsetting them.

My words just seem to be landing harder than I want them to.

Since finding out that I got the job, I have asked three different people if they want to come with me.

Each of them, for their own very logical and very precise reasons, said no.

I don't hold any ill will against that.

I don't think that was the wrong choice on their part.

I understand why they did that.

It makes a lot of sense.

And even though logically I understand it—

it reminds me how alone I am.

I Make Choices Based on What's Best for Somebody Else

I rearrange life a lot of the time based on somebody else.

I'm not bitter about it.

It's who I am.

It's who I've always been.

I don't know how not to be that person.

I enjoy it for the most part.

But today I was talking to a friend about it.

I made a comment about how I had asked three people to go with me.

I don't think the comment came out the way I meant it.

The response I got was:

Well, only one of those people should have said yes.

What It Felt Like Was That I Didn't Deserve Anybody Else to Choose Me

Well.

That hurt.

I don't really want people to uproot their life for me.

I don't think that I'm worth that.

In the slightest.

I never have.

But in the back of my mind—

I hope for it.

Just that little sliver of hope that says maybe one day somebody would want to choose me.

And I think that's what hurts.

I Just Wanted Someone to Choose Me

I took a minute before I responded because I knew my feelings were hurt.

I didn't want it to come off like I was trying to attack.

I said that everyone deserves someone to say yes and follow through.

Whether it's romantic or not.

I think what was misconstrued from that message was that I was saying that person should have said yes to me.

That's not what I meant.

I was saying, in my own way:

I just wanted someone to choose me.

And that's not happening.

I'm struggling with that.

Hurt Me Knows How to Scare Me

There have been several times just today that I thought about backing out of my decision.

Then I remind myself that's why I need to do it even more.

I find myself trying to talk myself into all the things that can go wrong.

Why this won't work.

The hurt me knows how to scare me back into submission where I should be.

Hurt me doesn't let me live.

She keeps me afraid enough to stay where I am.

No movement.

Today hurt me is very loud.

It's almost like she's standing there just screaming in my ear.

I'd like to turn it off.

I'd like to turn it down.

But it's something I get to live with.

I Still Did the Things I Needed to Do

I went to work and had an okay day.

I came home and took care of some business.

Then I picked my kiddo up from school blasting Hamilton because he loves Hamilton.

We laughed.

We sang on the way back home.

We talked about his event that he was going to tonight.

His baking, because he baked some goods to take with him.

Then I dropped him off.

He's there enjoying himself, I hope.

And I am waiting to go pick him up.

They're Just Words

While I was waiting, I was talking to my friend.

And I was struggling with that conversation.

Much like I do a lot of conversations.

My friends are quick to tell me how much I matter.

How much they care.

How much they're always there for me.

And I know those words to be true.

But it always feels like:

I'd do anything for you.

Isn't really anything.

That makes sense though, right?

They're just words.

And at some point in time I have to be able to discern what's just words and what's the truth.

I Like to Think That I'm Important to People

I'd like to think that I am meaningful.

That I've done something in their life to make them appreciate me being around.

What I feel like now is that I'm just going to disappear in the abyss and nobody's going to notice.

I'll just have been someone they knew at some point.

If they even remember.

And I think it's that reason that I have to stay with my decision.

I need this.

And I know I need this.

I've Lived This Life for Thirteen Years

I know that it's going to be really hard to walk away.

Because this is what I know.

I've lived this life for thirteen years now.

And although I'm not going away forever—

it's a temporary assignment—

it feels really heavy.

My birthday's coming up.

And at this point I'm not excited about it.

That's a big deal.

I'm always excited about my birthday.

Since I can remember.

But now it just makes me sad.

Who am I still supposed to spend it with?

Will anybody remember?

Do people only know about my birthday because I constantly talk about it?

I Can Make Lists for Things

I know this weekend I'm going to have to do a lot of work.

Not so much on physical things.

On being able to manage my emotions.

I don't want to spiral.

I can't afford to spiral.

I have to get things in order.

Make plans.

Make lists.

What I'm taking.

What I'm leaving.

I can do that with things.

I don't know how to do that with people.

I Keep Wondering How I Can Keep Putting Myself Out There

When it always ends so horribly.

To me, that sounds like the mental illness.

That you can get hurt over and over again and still try.

If anything ever makes me question that something's wrong with me, it's that.

I continue to give people chances.

I continue to hope they'll show up for me.

That they'll choose me.

That they'll want me.

Knowing that I rarely choose and want myself.

And this time I'm doing something different.

I'm Rewriting the Story

I'm hoping the ending is going to be something worth waiting for.

Even if right now it just hurts.

Even if right now it just makes me unbelievably sad.

I think that is the hardest part of getting better.

As you get better, you walk away from the things that make you not good to begin with.

The things that make you sad.

Or sick.

Despondent.

Lethargic.

We Are Experts in Withdrawal

There are those of us who have never touched drugs.

And yet I feel like we are experts in withdrawal.

We are so used to the hurt and the pain and the chaos that it's harder for us to let that go than it is for us to get ourselves together, be strong, and walk away.

I hope that I'm doing the right thing.

I know that I'm doing the right thing.

But it doesn't make it easier.

It makes it scary.

If It's Worth Doing, I Have to Try

And for me, this is worth doing.

The benefits of doing this outweigh the loss.

I will get to see my dad.

Who I haven't seen in years.

And while at my age that doesn't seem like a big deal—

when I am the most stressed out, when I am the most upset, all I want is my daddy.

And I know that this move, this decision, gets me time with him.

It means so much to me.

I get to see sisters and brothers who I haven't seen in years.

And friends.

I'm trying to remember all the positive reasons that I'm doing this.

All the good.

Instead of listening to the thoughts that are drowning me in my head.

Nobody Wants to Feel Like This

We talk about mental health as if it's this taboo thing versus what it is.

It's just a natural thing.

We can't help it.

We can't escape it.

We can't make it go away.

Many times, those of us who are struggling wish that we weren't.

We wish that we could stop it.

We wish we could just make it go away.

And if it were easy to do that, we would.

Nobody wants to feel like this.

Sometimes we do.

Sometimes we think it'll be the last of us.

That we won't be able to push forward and move on.

But we can.

And we do.

If I Could Survive Everything Else, I Can Survive This

I can be hurt and excited.

I can be sad and elated.

I can be all the things at one time.

And I get to decide when to focus on which one.

Tonight, because I'm sitting by myself in my office with my dogs passed out beside me, it's easy to be sad.

I don't have anyone to distract me.

It's easy to sit in my feelings.

Because that's what we do when we are really in this headspace.

We hide.

We either put on a really good mask so that people don't ask us about it—

or we just don't show our face.

Neither of those are healthy.

So I'm Showing My Face

As puffy and as yucky as it looks.

I am showing up.

I am showing out.

I'm cheering myself on.

My Bite of Pie

Today my bite of pie was a really big chunk of pie.

I let myself be sad.

And I didn't change my mind.

I didn't say:

Because I'm worried.

Because I'm scared.

Unless maybe I'm doing the wrong thing.

And back out.

I said:

Hey.

This is scary.

It's icky.

I don't like it.

But I'm still doing the right thing.

Growth sometimes is yucky and icky.

Sometimes it's hurtful and painful.

Growing hurts.

It's okay.

I'm going to enjoy my nice thick bite of pie.

I'm going to imagine it's pecan pie because it's my favorite.

True story:

I prefer pecan pie over birthday cake.

And I'm going to feel my feelings.

I'm going to process my feelings.

And I'm going to be okay.

I don't have to be okay now.

Or two days from now.

Or three days from now.

It's not a race.

I can feel better in the next hour and still feel just as sad when I go to bed tonight.

I'm allowed to do that.

And so are you.

Don't let anyone tell you that your emotions have to come at a certain time and stop at a certain time.

That's not how they work.

If you had talked to me earlier today, I seemed fine.

Just bouncing around and talking about TikToks.

Because I get some funny TikToks on my FYP.

That's how life goes.

We are human with emotions.

And they don't always look the same from moment to moment.

Today is another page in the story.

It does not have to be perfect.

It just has to be written.

Before you close your journal tonight, ask yourself:

What was your bite of pie today?

Until tomorrow,

Love you loud.