I have watery eyes. No, not allergies, no excess of eyelashes falling into my line of vision and causing me distress. I just cry a lot. I cry when my feelings get hurt, I cry when I do something wrong, I cry when I’m angry, I cry when I’m overwhelmed, and sometimes I just cry because I drank too much water.
What I really cannot handle is when people are disappointed with me, or do not like me. I am not sure why this is but it’s been like this since I was very young. When kids made fun of me, or rejected me, I would snap like a mouse’s spine under the pressure of a deadly THWAP. Perhaps it’s because I lack confidence, or because I have this need to please everyone, but lately I’ve been struggling with trying so hard to please everyone, including myself, and coming up short. Why? Well, because I do things I don’t like –I drink coffee once in a while, I take bites of cookies when there are treats in the office, I make mistakes on my bosses’ calendars and have to run around and fix everything. I can’t always keep my bills straight. I can’t seem to get myself to the place a 27-year-old should be. And because of that, I tend to take things very deeply, and personally and excruciatingly painfully. Yesterday was one of those days.
The first incident occurred when a co-worker (who I’m pretty sure is not wild about me) dropped off a stack of papers for me to have my boss sign, as well as some other top dogs. I had her sign them, but I missed one of the lines which were not intended for her, and so I had to bring it back to the woman who had to reprint the page, and give it back to me to get it off and signed by the right person. You see? Even YOU got confused by all that! It was a confusing stack of papers, and I’m still feeling relatively new at times, I don’t know all the ins and outs, all the bundles and jumbles, and her attitude makes me flustered through and through because I can tell she hates my guts and would like nothing more than to run over me with her car. Combine that with the fact that I was stressing out about her papers in particular, because I wanted her to see me as a good little girl who did what I’m told, and did it perfectly. Because of the mistake and the whole experience, I just cried and cried and cried feeling like I had done a piss poor job and would never amount to anything. Unfortunately, someone caught me in the act and I had to explain myself later. The woman who saw me was a sweet, able secretary who used her years of wise experience to comfort me with her kind words. It helped.
That’s really all I want, is to be perfect. I just want to do things right. It’s not so much to ask, and mind you, it’s not a bad goal.
That is, unless you’re Amelia Bedelia and you fail left and right, right and left, front and center. I drop stuff, I break things, I leave a wake of destruction everywhere I go. I think it’s because I was born illegitimately and it will forever haunt me. Once a life-destroying fetus, always a life-destroying fetus.
The second incident occurred at home. I’ve already mentioned that I break everything. Well, last night, I broke my 2nd wine glass, which is the 4th of all of the fine china and glasses that I’ve broken of my boyfriend’s. These do not include the 6 fine pieces of serving /dinner ware I broke while living at my parents, and the multitude of glasses I broke in France, and the…..I’ll stop there, but you see what I’m saying?! At first, I laughed at my blunder because being a klutz is hysterical, right? Well….unfortunately, when I confessed my sin to the man in charge, he informed me that these glasses have sentimental value. He tried to brush it off as nothing, but I could tell they were important to him. I guess there is no replacing those……
Well, what other option does that leave me with? Time to cry. I cried and cried and cried. I told my boyfriend he should break up with me so I can stop destroying his life. I didn’t really know what else to do at that point, and in fact, I still don’t. It’s a good thing I dehydrated myself today or else I would likely be crying right now.
I just want to be at peace. With myself, with the world around me, and with my limbs.
Sometimes I feel I have to be loved and adored by everyone simply because I love and adore everyone. But I suppose, the most important person to be loved and adored by is yourself. It’s just a lesson that is ever so hard for me to learn. I think I’ll go balance my checkbook instead and worry about loving myself later.