Sitting with sadness


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As I write this deep pain and sadness pierces through me. The type of sadness You want to sit with, be with. As if You don’t want to let it go because You feel alive. This is the most alive I’ve felt in awhile. I’m going through rejection. Rejection is tough for me. I fought it, I got angry at it but now I’m more present with it. I feel pain around my heart, everything seems hollow.

I know what the new age/positive focus/spiritual/self empowerment community might say: “You don’t want to be with those people anyways, women don’t want to hear this, other people don’t want to hear this, You are weak, women want confident and strong men, get over it”. Yes, these are all probably true. But today I say fuck this shit. I’m tired of being someone I’m not. I’m tired of pleasing women, men, everyone. I just want to be me, all of me. With my sadness, with my sorrow. Embrace it. The truth is I’m not confident, I just portray that most days. I hold up a strong facade for the outside because this is what people want. They want confidence, they want strong men. Women want this and they will reject You if they don’t get it. Yes, this might be true also. And I would be lying if I said I don’t care. Because I do, I really do but today I say fuck You. I feel lighter in my body already.

This is what we do as people. We value outside confidence, outside bullshit and I know this because I’m the greatest outside bullshitter ever. I can bullshit with the best of them. But today as I sit here with all this grief and sadness I can feel again. I’m more me than I’ve been in a long time. This is the real me, with and without my bullshit. It seems like I don’t care anymore but I do care. Only for a second I can let go and be with it all.

I want to be loved for who I am so deeply. I keep on putting on facade after facade. Only to be rejected more and more. The truth is I don’t even know who I really am but today I’m closer to it than I’ve been in a long time. I’m terrified of being rejected and not being loved for who I am. I’m frightened of ending up alone. I’m scared of others judging me because of it. I’m afraid there’s something wrong with me. I can feel again…

And I still hope those people who have rejected me come back, come back and admit they were wrong. That they would just see me. I want to prove them wrong. I want them to admit that they were wrong about me. This is me, the real me.

I want to write. This really helps me. I have become to love writing. When it’s real. When it’s from my heart. When it’s me. At this moment I feel I can express the real me. The more open me. I can feel my heart expanding. Feels like I want to share myself and write forever. Don’t want this feeling to end. But it will end sometime. Fuck this feels good.



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