There’s enough left for at least two more cupcakes but I rinse the bowl instead. I hear nine year-olds shrieking all over the world but they aren’t here to lick the bowl and my bowl-licking days are over. When you know you can lick a bowl any time you want, the desire wanes.
I can eat anything I want anytime. So I don’t buy ice-cream to make milkshakes. I buy blueberries and soy milk and I make smoothies. I make my own hummus. I don’t buy M&Ms* because it’s processed. These things matter to me now. These days I am consumed with taking care of myself. I sleep early, I eat well, I drink less. I take care of myself even though I’m not my biggest fan these days.
I’m not my biggest fan these days because I’m an angry motherfucker. I am angry all the time. I think maybe I am just tired. I have been smiling too much. At some point smiling will wear you out.
When I was younger, I craved challenges. I saw them as opportunities to prove my strength. On a very basic level, I believed I only deserved to be happy once I had overcome great obstacles.
In high-school I started cutting myself. Nothing is wrong; I’m just too weak to deal with every day life.
No obstacle there.
Then I started dating a local pot-dealer that put me down constantly in order to feel better about himself. This is not an abusive relationship; it’s my fault- sometimes I’m a bitch.
Then I went to university and fell into a dark depression for years. I don’t have Depression. Everyone knows Psychology students are always self-diagnosing. I’m just being dramatic.
Since I was fifteen, I have struggled with food: starving and bingeing and back to the beginning. I don’t have an eating disorder; I am not thin enough.
I set myself on fire. This isn’t a severe accident, I only burnt nine percent of my body.
A couple of months later I got my heart shattered. I can’t complain; it’s karma. All these years, haven’t I been the one leaving?
I pieced it back together with gin. I do not abuse alcohol, I just like to party!
Then I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder. Oh but it’s only Bipolar Type I.
I sound like a fucking idiot.
If this was someone else’s life, I would have been like: wooah! Not because I have been through anything particularly traumatic (there I go again), but because surely I’ve been through enough for me to realise that the problem isn’t finding obstacles to overcome; the problem is that -so far, someway, somehow- I have managed to leap over them.
You see, at the root of all this: I won’t let myself believe that I have succeeded.
Universe, give me obstacles!
Shitty boyfriends, self-abuse, disorders, accidents… Oh come on, Universe, I mean real obstacles.
The sad thing is, I am sure that I am not the only one who has such dysfunctional thoughts. There are always those that complain about their lives to the point of callousness but for the rest of us, the sensitive ones: how much do we have to suffer in order to consider ourselves strong?
I have smiled and accepted a lot of -for lack of a better word- hardships over the years. Some were unavoidable, some weren’t. These days, everything is okay, there is no drama distracting me, and so I have time to reflect: maybe I am angry because it’s all catching up to me.
The accident changed my life for the better but now, in June, when everyone is excited about bikinis, I resent my scars.
Mental illness used to seem so glamorous and dramatic but now, having a better understanding of the extra challenges I face on an everyday basis, I resent my moods.
To scratch beneath the surface though, I think what angers me, and what tires us in general, is the cycle. What goes up must come down and vice versa. Usually, we think about the cycle just after we’ve endured some hardship. We feel relieved, it feels so good to feel good again!
But isn’t it the same shit on the other side of the spectrum? Every time I feel depressed, every time something fucks up, I think again? Haven’t we just been through this? Frankly, it’s exhausting trying to stay afloat.
However! I know that one day (soon!) I will not be angry anymore. The cycle will swing in my favour. My batteries will be recharged and I’ll be ready to take any new obstacles The Universe throws at me… because you know she never gets bored of that! And this is what keeps me going. That change is the only constant. And while it’s tiring to try to keep up with life, we don’t really have a choice, do we?
In the mean-time, I burnt my cupcakes.
*You know I bought those M&Ms anyway, right?