It’s been hard for me to blog lately, because I just feel like, with all due respect, who the fuck cares?
I’m a goddam mess, nothing has changed, but I feel like Donald Trump is going to be president, the fact that I feel sad most of the time matters very little. And also I feel like I complain about my life ALL THE TIME to anyone who will listen, and I’m tired of listening myself.
Anyway, here’s “Wonderwall” . . .
I tend not to talk about my insecurities about boys on here too much anymore, because like what if they read it? But the fact is that’s a big issue I struggle with. I’m pretty convinced that I’m repulsive sexually, and if a guy shows any interest in me at all, it usually sends me into a cold panic, so instead I fantasize about guys who would never see me that way, and it’s agonizing and it’s torture and thank you for coming to Mansfield Snark, we have a whole blog full of insights like this.
So when I do this, on the one hand it’s a manifestation of my low self-esteem. Because it confirms that I’m not desirable to invest only in relationships that are going to confirm that for me. But also, and here’s the kicker, it’s an issue of too much self-esteem, because it’s me saying like, “I can prove this situation wrong. I will prove myself so desirable that I change his mind. He will love me and I will prove how desirable I have been all along.”
I do the same thing with writing and with job searching. I only want to write like Hemingway, so when I don’t, I just don’t write. When I’m not the best in my short story class, I get discouraged and don’t want to go. I want the dream job that’s going to prove my worth to the world, so I don’t apply to anything.
I think of it as like The Lizzie McGuire Movie-ification of my brain. We were all told that we were not just average middle schoolers, we were international pop stars. Or else, we weren’t worthwhile. I get really obsessed with that line in Walden when original hipster Thoreau says, “The great mass of men live lives of quiet desperation.” (NEVER FACT CHECK YOUR BLOG. ASSUME THIS IS THE EXACT QUOTE.) Average people are sad. To be worthwhile, you have to prove yourself extraordinary. You are either a nobody or you are a somebody special.
And I think this is why, in my opinion, it is so GODDAMN hard to be a millennial no matter what they say. Because I think we’ve all been taught that we’re so special and so unique, and then we find out that we’re just really fucking average, and we can’t deal with it.
I need to get better at this. I am really uncomfortable with the idea that I might just be a normal human being who is no better or worse than anyone else. My therapist says a good way to do this is to try to have more conversations with normal people, and get out of my own head a little. Je ne sais pas. I am working at it.
Sorry for talking about me again. HOW IS EVERYBODY? HOW IS YOUR FAMILY? PLZ TELL ME ALL YOUR FEARS AND CONCERNS THIS CHRISTMAS SEASON. BURN DOWN THIS BLOG.