i have quite literally no right to feel sorry for myself, like, ever. as i sit and write this, i am in a ridiculously cute (and unnecessarily expensive) coffee shop an hour away from home after spending the day wandering around an art museum by myself and enjoying the complete and utter joy that is self-reflection, which is arguably the best way for me to ever spend a day.
but that being said, why on earth do i still feel so down?
until about three days ago, i was supposed to be on a trip with my best friends that we have been planning and looking forward to for months, but the cruel tricks of life (aka the hidden and unimaginable cost of higher education, but that’s another post and problem entirely) decided to put those plans on a hard hold. i’m downright devastated. but is that devastation valid? like, at all?
i am sitting in an insanely privileged position to even have access to enough disposable income to enjoy the small joys of life like an insanely elaborate trip and then to be able to reroute that financial comfort towards summer classes that i by no means need to take is a huge blessing. this “problem” of mine is nothing more than the most first-world “woe is me” bullshit that could ever exist.
children are dying at school due to gun violence (i obviously have a lot to say about that, but not right now. still too angry and upset about all of this to form coherent thoughts. gun control regulation already jesus christ), families are falling into incomprehensible financial turmoil due to the rising cost in uh, everything, people are STILL dying of covid and their families have to deal with a level of grief that i can only imagine. and i’m upset over a fucking trip.
my mental health and i have always had a rough relationship which is a surprise to no one at all. i try not to use the “d-word” aka my drepression as a crutch because i’m so super lucky to not really have much trouble with it 99% of the time, but when she hits, it’s hard to miss. i mean hell, we’ve gotten to a point where just the lifecycle that is my current haircut is a dead giveaway as to where we’re at (for reference, i did just cut bangs, so we know it’s not going too well). as i was driving into the city today and as i was in the museum, i tried to take that quiet and reflective time to unpack all of… this.
my feelings and disappointment are valid, no matter how much i try and convince myself that they aren’t. are there millions of people doing a whole hell of a lot worse than me right now? yes, obviously. but am i still allowed to feel the weight of my own disappointment in its own right? also yes. and that’s a really fucking hard concept for me to understand and come to terms with. on the bright side, this at least gives me some solid material to bring into my next therapy session?
this is a post that is ultimately for me and my own complex (ish) human emotions that have no weight on anyone except for me. this isn’t any sort of “i found the solution and now i’m going to share it with you” sort of thing, if anything i’m exactly where i started this morning, just caffeinated and a little more cultured. so like, sorry for giving you uh, nothing. at the end of the day, i want to get to a place in which this is not something that i struggle with though, so i know this is just the start of this journey for me. thankfully, i think i see more unnecessary self-reflective trips in my future to work on this.
not too shabby 