If you’ve talked to me in the past two weeks you are well aware that I am in my ugly girl era. My most prevalent intrusive thought is *Sean Kingston voice*, “You’re way too ugly girl. You have me suicidal, suicidal…”
My therapist said that when I feel this way, I need to take stock of all the “cognitive distortions” that fuel these thoughts, and then I need to try to break them down and find where the feelings are coming from. She also said I need to find a way to sit in these feelings instead of relying on distractions.
Just classic cool-girl things of course.
So, I’m just sitting here post-work trying to write a blog post that I’ve been avoiding for two weeks.
I’m definitely in my #quarterlifecrisis era.
Drake and I were drinking Miller Lights by the lake when I said that I wanted to go into the World Record Book for having the most jobs—right now I’m a barista, bartender, nanny, trivia host, and literacy tutor. Filing taxes is a fucking nightmare.
Famously, their response was, “Usually a career is just one...”
Why can’t I do slash be everything everywhere all at once?
I don’t know what version of myself is the best version.
I used to think trying to be the funniest person in the room was the best version… But, I’m very quickly turning into my first-grade self where I got nauseous and asked to go home because the girls at my lunch table didn’t laugh at one of my jokes.
Over the weekend my uncle talked to me about the difference between comedy and humor. He explained that comedy is all about ego and humor is about connection. Comedians might be the funniest/most entertaining at the party, but no one wants to go home with them. People with humor invite people in and build community. This bitter heart is not very inviting and quite frankly I’m not going home with anyone…
I’m definitely not going to be the prettiest version because I keep forgetting to put on sunscreen and don’t get my eyebrows done (you didn’t need me to tell you that). Also, I can’t dress or do eyeliner for shit.
I’m not the published writer version because I can’t write even if my life depended on it. Plus I usually don’t make sense when I do write.
There are so many versions that I’m not and I don’t even have a husband that is happy doing laundry and taxes with me *insert crying emoji*.
This blog post isn’t profound or interesting or a cry for help I’m just shouting to the void that I feel like a failure and if you feel like one too you’re not alone. Let’s all be rocks staring at the desert together.
x critchie
Readz
Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine by Gail Honeyman
Isabel Cross told me to read this book and it did not disappoint. EOICF will give you whiplash because you'll be laughing out loud and then sobbing the next minute. All I have to say is that you should read it and text me your favorite quotes.
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I haven't been watching anything really but I did see a matinee of Everything Everywhere All At Once by myself after having a panic attack in the middle of the night and it did not disappoint. It is extremely long but is so so good. You will cry...
My summer playlists are this one and this one. Please comment some summer bops if you have any recs that I should check out.
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