There really will. Those don’t end just because we’ve taken the leap to “get our shit together”. And guess what? That’s ok.
My bad days are not so pretty. They’re not glitter and sunshine filled. Not even a little bit. I will spend the day in my pajamas, hair in a messy bun and completely stuck in my head. And my head, in case you were wondering, can be a super dark and lonely place.
Those of us who grew up in less than idyllic family environments, with abuses, trauma or neglect, literally experience a different kind of brain development. Growing up as a child and living in the constant state of fight, flight or freeze changes our chemical makeup while our brains and bodies are still developing. (True story, y’all – and if you’d like to read further on this particular subject or you’re feeling extra nerdy, I highly recommend the book The Body Keeps the Score by Bessel Van Der Kolk, MD.)
What that means to me, personally, is that I am hyper-sensitive to everything. Every. Little. Thing. People could look across the room crosseyed and not even have the first thought about little ole me and I will immediately think and know with every ounce of my being that they hate me and I’ve done something offensive – like breathe.
I’m not even kidding. My brain and my chemistry are jacked up. I have to constantly talk myself down and out of my head and try to rationalize with my book-brain (that knows very well that my thoughts and emotions aren’t logical) in order to recognize that everything isn’t about me and everything also isn’t bad or horrible. People in my life aren’t going to abandon me. I’m not a horrible person. People aren’t judging me. People don’t hate me. People don’t look at me and know that I’m fundamentally somehow broken as a person or lacking.
And this is the exhausting part. I overthink and hyper-analyze and second guess every interaction that I have with anyone – no matter how small – because ultimately, the me that was raised by people who didn’t know how to love me, is still here. And I’ve had to make it my job to show that girl the unconditional love that she was denied. There’s not enough bandaids in the world to cover and heal that kind of hurt, friends. You just have to love yourself through it and make the best of what’s left of your life and your world and move past the things that tried to break you.
You’re still here for a reason. And so am I. And on our bad days, we can rest in that knowledge until we make it to a better day.