Life is Crazy

Life is crazy and I say it all the time. Its kind of all-encompassing, isn’t it? Life is crazy. That can be wonderful or horrible or puzzling, but life is crazy.

I’ve read enough to know that whatever I’m feeling has been felt by millions before me and is probably being felt by thousands, if not millions, right this second. There’s comfort in knowing that. I’ve been lost. I’ve been confused. I’ve blamed a lot of people and looked for ways to repress whatever pain I’ve felt.

If you’ve followed along on this blog and the four glorious examples of Pulitzer Prize winning writing I’ve churned out, you can probably pick up that I’ve been angry and you are correct. I’ve been angry. Up until recently, I couldn’t pinpoint where this anger had come from.

At my sister’s 22nd birthday dinner, I cried at the table. I had been exposed to something I didn’t want to see and it was upsetting, but I didn’t know it would trigger a waterfall of emotions and they would come roaring down on me. This made me feel disgusting and even worse because I felt like I ruined her birthday. I went home, screamed into a pillow, and tried to figure out the misfiring of my emotions: “why are you so angry, Jasmine?”

No answer.

I shook myself like a limp, lifeless doll, grabbing myself by the collar. “TELL ME WHY YOU’RE SO ANGRY.” The shrinking of my throat choked out, “this isn’t how it was supposed to be.” And then I let go.

Its difficult to stare at ourselves. More often than not, we don’t like what we see. There are things I know about myself that I stave off under the guise of self-confidence or completely neglect to give my attention to altogether, but I know they are there. It takes a lot of introspection and self-awareness to change something we know deep, deep down we don’t like about ourselves and this is something I have failed at time and time again.

I don’t like being an angry person. I don’t like being upset. But why haven’t I changed the things that upset me or at least changed my reaction?

Some things are not our fault. Some of the circumstances I’ve been born into or stumbled into on my own uncharted path have been out of my control. Did I want to be where I am right now? No. Hell no. But I do have a responsibility to address that and figure out where I went wrong, where I could go wrong next, and if I’m willing to suffer the things I have to suffer to get out of the place I do not like.

In my last post, I had talked about the disappointment I felt in signing to a place I didn’t want to be. Stumbling upon the fact that a fellow model, of whom I hastily deemed unworthy and lazy, had signed to a place I wanted to be; I was irate. I was seething. Anger had consumed my body and my life, spewing venom into my closest relationships and self-esteem. I let that upset me and it bogged me down for a long while. The nastiest thoughts crept in. I wanted to quit.

Forget that.

I don’t know who I am, but I know what I want and to let myself become so unbearably, birthday-ruining angry has been one of the biggest wake up calls. I’m grateful for that suffering because I’m about to take on a lot more. I’m willing to take on a lot more because I know I will eventually feel fulfilled.

Life is crazy.

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