Rejection and criticism in small doses still hurt.
This entire week was a big blur. I checked my e-mails constantly. Every time my husband Javier left the house I started to fall into catastrophic thinking.
What did I do wrong? What if I do something wrong? Future self, could you please stop me from making any stupid decisions?
And lose perfect writing material? As if. That’s what I imagine my future self saying.
Pain fuels inspirational words.
I started to tell myself that anytime I feel hurt, I’m allowed to say, “Ouch.” I can say it in English, Spanish, or Japanese. Doesn’t matter. As long as I take the half of a second to acknowledge that my feelings have been hurt.
And then I move on. If I keep going, I know that I can heal.
It’s not like people intend to hurt me. My mom may offend me by telling me I should “get a real job” or my sister may upset me by not agreeing with my opinions. It’s OK to disagree.
If I could have it my way, I’d stay in a little box all my life and never go outside of it. I’d never talk to anybody. Truth be told, I’m very much a person who likes to stay by herself. I also love being around people. Especially my son Chris. He’s adorable.
I remember a woman saying this in group therapy: why can’t I just be?
Existence is pain, desire is pain. I don’t mean to get all philosophical; I just remember hearing those ideas from somewhere.
Well, I’ll never have to go through this week ever again. I can put it down in my books as the past.