Tuesday, March 06, 2007
What I hate most about myself
I’ve got a lot of flaws, as do most people. But one that I hate most, even more than my tendency for defensiveness, is being a crybaby. I find it incredibly hard to control my emotions. I wear my heart on my sleeve. You’ll know exactly how I’m feeling just by looking at me. That in itself isn’t that bad, because it makes me genuine. What I really hate is how the waterworks will swtich itself on at the slightest provocation. I get teary-eyed when I’m feeling wistful, guilty, angry, or just about any intense emotion.
This would be fine if it were limited to movies that evoke these emotions, but it happens all the time, everywhere. Whenever a conversation turns serious on a personal level, I start to choke up. I have many things I want to say but the tears start flowing and my face contorts into an ugly crybaby expression and… I just… can’t… talk. Hate. It. HATE IT! I hate it with a passion. It’s like I feel things so intensely that for some reason it always pushes my cry button. I fucking hate being a fucking crybaby. I can never get my point across and it’s more embarrassing than anything because it usually just confuses whoever I’m talking to.
I’ve been this way since childhood. My mom would be yelling at me about some damn thing (it wouldn’t take much) and I’d just stand there sniffling. She would often ask, “Why are you crying??” but usually in that angry way that means “crying isn’t going to make it all right.”
Trying to talk usually just makes things worse. It takes every ounce of control I have just to keep the tears inside. I can feel them on the surface, wanting to burst free and embarrass me yet again. Having to actually think of responses to say while on the spot like this just makes me lose it and there I go, crying like an idiot. Fucking hate it. I want to be strong, normal even. I want to be able to hold a serious personal conversation without being a blubbery mess. I want to be as verbally thoughtful and eloquent as I can be in writing. I want to be in control of myself for goodness sake.
Maybe I’m too sensitive. Everything about me is. I’m sensitive to loud noises, bright lights, allergens, criticism, and lots of other junk. Being sensitive sucks. I need a thicker shell, like a tortoise. Of course then most of my clothes wouldn’t fit…
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Categories: • Personal Insights