I am not "Too Much."

I’ve been agonizing over writing the next post for this blog for months now. Every time I think about uploading and writing a new one, I can come up with all the reasons why I shouldn’t. But here I am tonight at almost 8 pm finally sitting here on the couch while eating some dinner, writing. I am a very self-aware person, almost to a fault sometimes because I overanalyze everything. I overanalyze what poem out of my collection I should put on here next, what should I write as an intro, should I even write an intro? The thoughts just swirl around until I’m paralyzed. Paralyzed into inaction and if I’m being honest, paralyzed into fear.

I have come to realize that I am afraid of a lot of things. And many times, I let that fear, and the anxiety that comes with it, be the driver. I’m afraid that people won’t like my writing. I’m afraid that no one will read it, yet I’m also afraid that certain people might read it and think I’m talking about them. And maybe I am, and they will never know. But either way, fear has been ruling me.

I don’t want to be this type of person. I want to be the carefree girl who will put everything out there because she doesn’t care what other people think. And she does it and she feels no regret or anxiety over having done it. That type of person seems like they have so much mental freedom.

Many times, I feel that I keep myself locked in the cage of my own thoughts. I’ve noticed lately that I keep thinking to myself that I am too much. I care too much. I cry too much. I love too much. And I hurt just as much as I have loved. In our society the idea of a woman being “too much” always has the sentiment that, because she is too much, she isn’t lovable by men, or is overpowering as a friend. She should tone herself down to be more palatable for the rest of society. But let me tell you, it’s not worth it. Don’t fall into the trap of dimming your light or hiding your emotions for the sake of making everyone else feel more comfortable. Fuck their comfort. If they aren’t comfortable around you because you choose to feel your emotions and be honest with people about how you feel about them, about pineapple on pizza, about whatever it is you having feelings about…. Then they don’t deserve to hear and see all of those things from you anyway.

I want to live unapologetically and do the things I want to do regardless of what anyone might think. Of what my family might think or my friends or that guy walking past me on the street. And the crazy thing is, I can do that. Even though as I sit here I think, well that’s just not me. She cares too much. There it is again, me supposedly being too much. How about I care as much as I want, but know when to let go too? Or I open my heart up and be me, knowing that I’ve been burned many times over, and I’ve been ok. I’ve still put that scared heart back out on my sleeve where it always has been. And I shouldn’t have to change that. Because that’s who I am.

I’ve been sitting here just letting the words flow out of my fingers and I’m realizing how easy it is. It’s easy once I get out of my own way and tell the doubt and anxiety to fuck off. I know that I am usually the person holding myself back. But right now, I’m not. And I’m going to share with you something I wrote today that 10 minutes ago I would have decided needed to stay in my private collection because it was too personal. But I’m done hiding, and done worrying and done trying to act like I don’t exist.

Friday Sept 6, 2024: Sometime around 5 pm

Why do I care so much?

For someone who gets hurt so easily

I choose to trust people so easily

Every time.

Even though I've been burned too many times to count and have the scars to prove it

Sometimes I feel utterly stupid for being so open and honest and raw with people I hardly know

But I guess it’s because I don’t know any other way to be, although I try to hide and stifle myself not to be that way

I’ve come to a point in my life where I won’t hide who I am or what I’m going through

Because those things are the quintessential cornerstones of my existence

They are my existence

And I exist

You cannot know me without knowing I suffer from depression and anxiety

You cannot know me without knowing that I divorced someone I thought would be my forever

And you cannot know me without knowing that I once wished I was not here at all

I refuse to hide myself like I once did

I am me with all those things, and those things will always be a part of my story

So yeah, I’ll tell you about how the organization I loved and would have died for had I been asked, let me down and made me feel invisible

And I'll tell you how disappointed and utterly crushed I was and still am over it

Ill tell you how I feel about you

But you’ll most likely already know because I wear my heart on my sleeve like a patch that displays my vulnerabilities and my hurts

I’m not even hiding from people when I try to

I don’t want to become hardened by the things and the people who have hurt me

The things that tore me down until I thought I'd never get back up

The people who used me and left me with scars on my heart and soul

I want to stay soft like the petals of a rose in bloom

Because I won’t let this world change me for the worse

But I’ll work to change me for the better.