Choose Happy

You told me to be happy. Choose happy.

I’m so far from happy and I can feel myself driving you away. You’re the best friend I could ever ask for and I’m pushing you away because I’m not happy.

You keep asking me to go out dancing with you… to just go out. I don’t want to go out. I don’t want to go out anywhere. Ever. I don’t want to do anything. Ever. I don’t want to be in public. I don’t want to be social. I avoid situations where I’ll have to talk to people. I avoid situations where I’ll have to see people… where people will see me. The thought of it is terrifying right now. I go to work and then I just want to come home and hide in my bed. I told you on the phone tonight that I have to prepare myself to go out and you didn’t get it and I couldn’t explain it. I could hear your frustration as you got off the phone and I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I’m inexplicably falling apart and you’re witness to it. I’m sorry that I’m falling apart as you’re trying to put the pieces back together. I have to prepare myself these days. I need to know that I’m going to be going out and that I’m going to see people and people are going to see me. I need enough time to fight off the voice in my head telling me to stay home. Don’t go anywhere. You’ll be let down. No one wants you around. You’re in a foul mood, don’t subject anyone to that. I need to prepare myself for the fight. I need to attempt to fend off the voice in the mirror telling me that NOTHING LOOKS GOOD on me.

I don’t want to be seen. I see the numbers on the scale and they’re only going up. I hate it. I hate that every day is a struggle. I hate that my clothes are too small and don’t look good. I hate that I look pregnant and I”m not. I’m so fat and it’s killing me. I hate my body. I hate everything about me. I feel so worthless and unworthy. I feel like I’m never good enough… so I may as well stay home.

I’m applying for a job and I already don’t want it. I told my mom about it and everytime she said something encouraging I came back with all the reasons that it would be terrible. But I’m applying? Because maybe? Maybe I’ll be wrong? Maybe it’s only working for Visitor Services that is sucking the life out of me. Maybe working for the Volunteer Department will be different. I can’t see it though. I see how unhappy I’ll be because I’m so unhappy now. I can’t envision happy. I can’t imagine happy. I don’t remember happy.

And when you can’t remember or imagine what happy is like… then how do you choose it?

I’m so scared. <3

~ by Sisters By <3 on February 8, 2009.