How it Feels

It's like sitting on a wooden chair, in an empty room, and you can hear music. And the music is happy, but it doesn't make YOU happy. It doesn't fill you up, even though you know it should. And you doubt yourself, you think something is wrong with you, because this music doesn't uplift you the way it seems to do to everyone else. And then you realize that you're tied to the chair, you are being forced to face this endless self-doubt, to feel this terrifying sense of difference. Waves of lost faith crash into you, rippling the self confidence you worked so hard to obtain.

You try to fit yourself into the tune, to find its meaning and place in your own life, but it doesn't work. And you feel so alone in that dark and empty room. and no one outside the room even attempts to understand. And the music is forever getting louder. Then suddenly it hits you, like a pane of glass being smashed into your forehead: the music is coming from inside your own head. That's how it feels.

Thing I Hate about Myself #37
I give in too easily, and then wonder what would've happened had I not.