Oh my lord. I just saw “Eighth Grade” and I swear I’ve never had so many feels. All the feels. The actress and storyline are so essentially relatable and loveable and cringy and cute. I laughed, I cried, I remembered all the times kids were mean to me…
Growing up is never easy. Life isn’t fair. Someone said those things to me on repeat as a kid, usually my mom probably, but nothing reminds you so obviously of that fact until you see a cinematic throwback to experiences that mirrored your own to make you sit up and hate/love the person in front of you as you beg her not to make a bad decision.
I don’t think we ever stop growing up. When I look back on me and my decisions a year ago, a week ago, yesterday, I immediately cringe and try to find a hole to go crawl into. I stay up and night and wonder WHY IN THE NAME OF GOD DID I SAY THAT? THAT’S SO EMBARRASSING. And then I think of something I DID that was actually worse than what I said and all I can think is, AND THAT, TOO? CAN YOU JUST BE NORMAL FOR ONCE?
No, no I cannot be. I must be weird, it’s my only option, it seems. I must draw awkward and embarrassing attention to myself. I must relive those moments when I’m trying to sleep and get jolted awake again from the horrible memories. I must push people away with my awkwardness and then wonder why I don’t have any friends. Some people have to keep up their perfect Instagram stories. This is just my cross to bear…
Day 54 – Eighth Grade and Growing Up
Late at night, when I’m lying in bed, I like to replay all the mistakes I’ve ever made in my entire life on loop, and feel embarrassed about them all over again. Do you ever do that? I still cringe about something I did when I was 4, and then more things when I was a teenager, and still more things that I do every single day.
It’s like this endless cycle of things I wish I’d said as an angry retort at some point during the day – like when that lady cut me in line at the store I wanted to say “Fuck off, you entitled piece of shit. You are not better than me, so stand in line like I’ve been doing before I make you,” or someone in a skirt yelled out to me that I look like a man, I wish I’d said, “I still look better as a man in a skirt than you do as a woman in one”…Or something much better and wittier – so a series of things I wish I’d said to idiots throughout the day, and then a reminder of one very embarrassing thing I did at some point in my life, followed by a flashback of one VERY embarrassing thing I did at some point in my life, pursued closely by one VERY EMBARRASSING thing I did fairly recently until I’ve convinced myself that all I do is embarrassing things and I’m never leaving my bed or my house again. And once that thought is complete, I remember the LADY at the STORE…
I cringe at myself for the things I’ve written before, the angsty teenager that I was, the dumb things I’ve said or done over the years (usually with the best of intentions) until all I can do is hope that everyone else hates themselves as much as I do or that there’s a magical pill out there in the world that can stop this loop but not actually kill me. Are there people out there who live without anxiety? Who don’t hate themselves and everything they’ve ever said or done? Come at me, bro.
That is not me. I am cringing about 10 different things as I write this. I’m very capable of cringe-typing multitasking.
Day 38 – Embarrassment runs amok.