I’m popular… No, really, I am.
This was a very hard post to write. I’ve often felt of pulling it from the scheduled post, but I’ve promised before that I will always be honest with you, and my commitment to you is to share my very being, to share myself being a human. And this is it.
I’ve spoken with you before of how I used to be bullied. It was never physical, and never in front of the teachers but the sneers, the whispered insults and the exclusion from any friends group (to state a few) were deeply felt both mentally and physically.
I am now 27 years of age but those bullying acts from the Primary school days still affects me to this day. For one, I lack self confidence in my appearance and am constantly disgusted by what I see in the mirror. For another, I have an insane unexplainable need to be popular.
Popular is such a nasty concept sometimes. What makes something popular? What makes that girl popular? In Primary school, the girl with the prettiest smile, the one with the fairest skin and straightest hair were the popular ones. Children are naturally attracted to things and people they deem as pretty. My classmates were drawn to these popular girls like insects to a light bulb. They were the queens. And the queens get to dictate how the social group works – in which Miss little Celeste was promptly ostracized from. It doesn’t matter now whether or not the reasons were valid or even if I was imagining the reasons, fact is that it left a mark.
So how does that affect me?
It’s simple. Everyday, around me, many things happen that can act as a stimuli that would push me over the edge and send me spiraling into a world of self-loathing and self-despair. For example, when I lost an election at school, my first (very immature) thought was to think that it was because I wasn’t popular enough. It didn’t matter that perhaps the other person had more experience, or that this was the way democracy works. The very first thought was that I wasn’t popular enough.
I could be reading twitter and somebody might be randomly mentioning that they loved so-and-so’s blog. My immediate (again, very immature) thought would be think: “Why don’t people love my blog the same way?” And the next thought would be “Because I’m not pretty or popular like the others.” In quick succession, other thoughts would come flying through my head, some mocking, some jeering, some absolutely despicable. The rational part of me will know that this is because the other person has worked way harder, way longer than me on the blog, but does the unreasonable side of me care? No.
Anything can be engineered into a self-loathing and self-pity session. When I see my friends being better friends with each other than they are with me, despite the fact that I was the one who introduced them, that is enough to throw me off my game for a few days and to wallow in self-pity. It is a vicious cycle, it never seems to end. I hate myself for being who I am, a low, despicable, ugly self, and then I hate myself more for thinking that way.
It is humbling. You realise just how vulnerable you are. And it is also soul-destroying. Because instead of others bullying me, now I am bullying myself.
This year, I have suffered more bouts of such self-loathing more than I have in the past few years. I was honestly getting better at loving myself over the years, and last year I had the most improvement. But this year seems to have done a number on me, and I seem to have undone all the good the past few years have done.
I don’t really know what else there is for me anymore. I’ve been told to just ‘get over it’ so many times that I grow angry when I hear that. I’ve been told that I am impossible to reason with when I’m wallowing in self-pity. So instead of letting it out, I bury it as much as I can, but the more I bury it, the worse I feel. Because the more I bury such strong feelings of self-pity, the more convinced I am that nobody really wants to care about how I feel. Just what I can do for them.
Thank you if you’ve read this far. There’s no real point to this entry other than to say that, if you feel like you are always failing because you are not one of the popular ones, you’re not alone. How can I help you?
Well. My hope is that we can find out together.