Just a little clip from my favorite movie, Strictly Ballroom.

He’s been trying to figure out what’s so wrong with him for 3 weeks but I’ve been trying to figure out what’s wrong with me for 3 years. (Well, really my whole life but I really kicked it into gear the last 3 years.)

From what I can gather:

• I’m too emotional
• Too intense
• Not enough of a filter
• Too distrusting
• I trust too much
• I take things too literally
• I read too much into things and don’t take them literally enough
• Talk too much
• Don’t communicate enough
• Selfish
• Too self-deprecating
• Too full of pride
• Overthink
• Don’t think things through
• Feel like a burden
• Have abandonment issues
• Need too much reassuring and validation
• Too emo
• Not goth enough
• And according to my mother I’m fat and look like a zombie when I don’t wear makeup

I probably left some stuff out but that’s ok. You can email me your own list of what’s wrong with me.

Here’s what I think is actually wrong with me:

• I’m worried that no one will love me and I’ll die lonely and alone and no one will find my body until it’s decomposed so much that I’ve become fused to the piece of furniture I died on and this deep fear that I am so terribly unlovable causes me to try to be whatever the person I love wants and needs but in the process I lose myself and become jealous and afraid and that jealousy and fear manifests as all that stuff I listed above, the consequences of that being that instead of retaining their love I push them away in a self-fulfilling prophecy kinda way.
• I don’t really like horseradish

I will NEVER be enough for anyone and I think I’m finally ok with that. If I have to be perfect to be loved then I don’t know if trying to catch love like it’s a damn pokemon is worth it.

I am imperfect and a pain in the ass and dramatic and all of the things. I’m fat and I do kinda look like a zombie when I don’t wear makeup. I am intense and self-deprecating and I talk too much and I’m too emotional. One time I left some crumbs in a kitchen sink and for that I was called a worthless piece of shit and smacked around. I fully know that I am not perfect and if leaving crumbs in a sink means I’m worthless to you then so be it.

I don’t care anymore.

I don’t know if the good things about me outweigh the batshit crazy that rattles around my skull or if they even each other out. I really hope the batshit crazy isn’t winning the war but who knows?

What I do know is if I stop worrying so much if I’ll be loved at least some of that batshit crazy will wither and die. And I’d really like that.

I’m tired of being afraid and I’m tired of trying to be perfect.

I’m done with love. Tina said it best, “What’s love got to do with it? Who needs a heart when a heart can be broken?” Not me, bish, that’s who.

I will keep loving because that’s who I am. But I no longer expect love in return and don’t care if I get it.

Do your worst.

PS if you do email a list of what you think is wrong with me it’s going straight in the trash unopened because I don’t give a shit.