Break Down

It happened.

I already had my first break down of 2016 and it's only 14 days in. 

I didn't mean for it to happen. I didn't mean to cry. I didn't mean to let him see me like that. 

But it happened. 

Reality sometimes hits. The fluffy clouds around me go away or turn into gray thunderstorms. 

It's been easy lately because he's not at the station, not risking his life, not running into fires. 

That'll soon end. It'll reach the point when he goes back, he gets back into working 24 hours at a time, maybe more, maybe less. 

The break down happened after we shared a moment. We held each other tightly and I felt it. You were slipping away. A sad song playing in the background and you were leaving me. I whispered for you to come back to me. You squeezed my hand before letting it go again. I hate when you let go. I felt my eyes swell. I didn't want you to see me cry. I try to be strong for you. You need someone strong at your side. You squeezed my hand again and this time for longer. You were finally coming back to me. At that point I told you I needed to get up. I went into the bathroom. Ran the water like I always do. There was something different that you didn't know happened. I cried. I stood in the bathroom, listening to the water running, and just cried. I came out and sat next to you. You had to ask for cuddles. You asked me what was wrong and I couldn't tell you. More tears. You held me tighter.
I couldn't tell you because part of me didn't know why I was so upset. The other part of me knew I was just trying to block out what's really been on my mind. Living like this. Living knowing I have to watch what I listen to or watch around you. Knowing that this is how things were going to be. I better read up and buckle down figuring out how to suit your needs. I know that sounds selfish and I don't mean it to be. You take care of me. You want to take care of me. So far, you've done a wonderful job, but that's not the point. I try talking to you about my feelings and things get weird. I know it's hard to talk about it, but I need it. I need to talk about how I'm feeling. I need you to see me cry. I need you to know that it is hard on me. I can't. I hate it when you see me cry. I hate it when you hear me cry.
After I calmed down some, you went into the bathroom. I ran upstairs to grab something. I came back you were sitting on the floor. You left me again. You weren't there. I hate it when you leave me like that.
I sat with you, but you came back quicker this time. I actually felt like I helped some, even if I didn't. I used your phone, like we've talked about and started talking about happier things. You came back. You told me what had happened, I tried to comfort you...I feel like I failed. I told you everything was okay. I'm sorry. I know I'm not suppose to say that. I don't know how to comfort you with why you left. You're so worried about your scars and me seeing you all scarred up. I see you scarred every day. It's how you look. You can't see your scars though, trust me, I've tried to see them. I can't. Just like you, though...I don't want you to see my scars. That might be why I don't want you to see my cry. I don't want you to see my scars. Okay? I don't want you to see my scars! I want you to view me as strong and someone who will stand by your side, even though most days I'm not sure if I can do it.
I'm scared. I don't know if I can do it. The more I read about being in this relationship, the more I get nervous. I know I love you. I know I want to spend my life with you. We have so many happy days and moments, yesterday was filled with them. You even admitted I know you better than you know yourself. It doesn't make it easier. I need you know that. I need to you know all of this. I hate watching you leave me, feeling your body and mind just drift away. It hurts. I feel useless, even if I'm helping. I need you to know that.
I know you know. That's not the point. It breaks my heart to have these feelings. I love and support you, no matter what you want to do in life. You know that. All I've ever asked is that you let me know, that you include me. Well, this is me including you. This is everything I couldn't say to your face. This is how I see our bad days. Our bad days. You're never alone while we're a couple. We're team. You always you have me, your protecting me, and I know. I want to have your back just as much, but I needed you to know this first.
I've never been one to keep hush when I feel about something. You know that. We've had talks about things that make you unhappy, but I've still made it clear where I was coming from and we've talked things out. It's been nice. I wish I could do that with our bad days, but I can't. I had to write it. You had to read it. I couldn't do it while we were face to face. I hope to get there one day. I hope I can get to the point where it's okay if you see my scars. You love me with my scars. I love you with your scars, so don't worry about them. I know that's easier said than done, but don't worry. I don't see them. I only see you. Just you. That's who I love. Just you.

Part Four: Is The End The Beginning?

           This series started saying to never change who you are. Do you still feel that way? Was Shakespeare true in saying "to thine own self be true"? Perhaps. It just depends on where we're at in life. Depends on how we feel. Never change you. I feel like when someone says never change they mean the person you are, at least the person they think you are. No one sees the demons within. When I look at someone and I see a smile on their face, I always try to think about why they're so happy...why they're smiling or if it's even real or not. I try to smile through just about everything. Smiling and smiling just hoping it would one day turn into a real smile and it did. I worked hard to make myself happy, to let go, to let all the anger I held in just out. Talking to people, writing a blog, writing songs and poems, getting everything out has helped. It was hard and scary and it sucked. 
  

Person A: "You're never going to be completely happy with what you look like. You'll always wish x,y, and z were different (and those variables change!). Even with the luxury of being pregnant and not having to worry about how my clothes fit, I still find myself worrying about what other people think about my body, and I hate it.

No one is 100% in love with who they are and how they look. No one. So we (as a culture) need to stop beating ourselves up because we don't have as much confidence as ______. So we need to learn to like ourselves. NOT become overly confident and boisterous and brag... but just learn to appreciate the good qualities we do posses. Those insecurities are never going to go away, because those characteristics we're insecure about are probably never going to change.
In middle school (and even high school) people used to squawk (like a parrot) and cackle at me like the Wicked Witch from Wizard of Oz, because of my nose. Sure, I could drop a pretty penny go to and get it "fixed," but what would I accomplish? I'd be doing exactly what those bullies would want me to do; I'd be letting them win. Some girls are just born thicker and broader. We can't get hung up on the ideal body image, because even those girls don't have that look going for them. Just find things you like about yourself (write them down!), and focus on exaggerating them! Just like we as girls don't want to date or marry a "project," guys don't either. It's fine to have insecurities, but DON'T let them inhibit you from becoming self-sufficient, and LIVING."

Person B: "Right now, I’m still in the depression mode. Weighing 230 pounds takes a toll on a person. Once I work my way to 199. Then I will realize I am an amazing person, and if I can lose 30 pounds then I can do anything. And then love myself. Hopefully. I always think if I was skinny how my life would be. I'd be sleeping around with guys. Smoking weed with my friends. Become what both my parents were. So I am grateful I’m over weight because I grew out of the stoner life like my parents and a close friend and trying to do something with my life. Even with a few extra pounds."

Person C: "I'm at a standpoint of I will eat whatever I want, to a "it's time to be healthy and fit and meet my body goals....so I'm in the process of change."

Person D: "Not gonna lie there are days that I just don't even want to leave the house cause I feel like a giant ugly ogre. Sometime the clothes just don't look right and I feel like crud. I sink back to those feelings. It will happen, it happens to all of us. But you have to tell yourself that this feeling is only TEMPORARY. It will pass, and then you'll feel better. You'll rock those skinny jeans and won't even care to cover up you're acne. When you feel great, you tend look great. It really doesn't matter about how others see you, it's how you see you. Once you focus on that, and are able to love that, then you'll feel accomplished. You'll feel comfortable in your own skin. You'll be able to dust off people's comments like nothing and you'll finally be able to GLOW."

Person E: "I had a seriously sprained ankle in high school. The day after it happened, I asked my mom if she could get my stuff from the car. I had a lot of stuff and couldn't get it on crutches. She said that maybe if I got it I could work off my love handles and then refused to help me. My little brother ended up carrying my stuff in with me. I was so shocked that the hurt didn't sink in for a while. My mom still makes off handed comments sometimes but less than she use to." 

Person F: "I wanted nothing more than to be liked and fit in as a kid. I would make friends and either they would start disliking me, or others pressured them into disliking me. I was too nice and an easy target. There was something about me that stood out and I never really understood it.

At home I was the younger sister and tom boy. I only wore hand me downs and was never asked for much. My parents thought of me as the one they didn't need to worry about.
I ate my feelings, I had consistent nightmares, I was teased constantly, but I kept it to myself.
Actually I never listened to rumors and I think I'm better for it. I was friends with the kids that were held back for "immaturity" in elementary, the kid who picked his nose, the new kids, the weird ones, the smelly ones, the peepers, the quiet, honestly anyone who stood out. I value identity, and even if they didn't try, they were the weird kids to everyone else, and that says to me they knew who they were and didn't know how to pretend to be someone else.
Ok ok, for real, body image. The biggest turning point was when I was given the opportunity to start over when my family moved. I eventually became friends with the popular and somewhat popular kids. I went from being the lowest peg on the social latter, to clutching at the top. It was when one of the girls "joked" that the biggest kid in class was going to eat her, I knew I didn't want that. The year prior, before I hit a growth spurt, the same was said to me. It wasn't a great feeling being told you're so fat you could eat another person. I couldn't be part of that. I spent the rest of middle and high school in the same position as before. No one really knew me, but they liked me enough to talk to me occasionally. I was often the backup friend, but I deviated again.

Through my life I have learned that being happy with yourself, is accepting the weird ugly meat bag we're all wearing. It has nothing to do with who we are. Gender, size, shape, none of it should matter. We have limited control in our meatsack, we should all embrace and love it. for all of its imperfections.
Now I just need more meatsacks who embrace me. That weird girl on mean girls is kind of an intense version of me. I want to have a love cloud that protects all the people I care about so they are free from judgement and can learn to love their meatsack as much as I love them, for just being them.
I could write tons more, but I realize most of my discussion of bodies is a disinterest in the physical aspect of who people are."

Person G: "I am now in a better place. I had a kid and realize my body will never be the same but that is ok. I gave birth to a beautiful tiny human. I have my good days and bad days. But the good are out waying the bad. I have a husband who loves me no matter what and tells me I look beautiful daily." 

Person H: "Just that I think that being able to strip down all that bullshit and insecurity got me to a place where I feel really comfortable with who I am. It took a lot of work. I'm also lucky to have a husband that looks at me as an equal and who respects my body. He's not weirded out by it. He doesn't say something snippy if I don't shave my legs for awhile (no political agenda here, usually just lazy). He's still attracted to me and is comfortable. I don't think I'd be able to be involved with someone who struggled to accept me. I'm not cookie cutter. And he's totally fine with that." 

Person I: “I do think (and however sad this may sound) the best motivation, at least that I have discovered is when someone notices you, a man, a woman, whoever it may be – when they seem to have that desire. It makes you want to try harder. I love my boyfriend, I want to marry him, I don’t want anyone else besides him. But, that notice, is what can keep you motivated – even with no intention of giving into the desire.”

So, what have we learned? If you're still with me, thank you. I was going to shorten the stories, but I felt like it took away from everything. There's a common theme of people feeling so down about themselves and people telling them that they were right. Some of them found peace, found at least one person who helped them, some just count on themselves. I can't wrap my head around why people are so rude...not just to strangers. It's easy to be rude or mean to someone you don't know, you don't have that connect to even begin to feel bad for, right? What about people you know? What about people who are suppose to love you and be there for you? What happens when they're rude to you? Do you think about what you say? How easily it could break someone? Smile at someone. Some random person on the street. Give a homeless person a water bottle. Listen to someone. Listen to their stories. Listen to their life. People are screaming their stories at you; all you have to do is listen. Perhaps if we start listening, we will learn about them. Perhaps if we start sharing our stories we can start relaxing, opening up, living a new life, getting happier and realize that looks don't matter as much as we think.