It’s been over a year since I last wrote on this blog. I dropped it to pursue a new blogging venture, on which I posted three times and abandoned. Abandoned because everything in my life started shifting and some gigantic changes shaped the next year of my life.

And I stopped writing.

I stopped writing because I didn’t want to generate fake humor, because I didn’t want to talk about the things going on in my life, because I’m sad.

I still don’t want to talk about my life, but I do want to talk about being sad, because as I constantly have to remind myself, I deserve to be unhappy. Stick with me.

I don’t like feelings. I don’t want to talk about them, feel them, or let anyone in my life know that they are effecting me. I avoided my family for months so that I wouldn’t have to tell them what was going on. I waited to tell my friends until after the fact. I didn’t ask for help or for a hug and kept telling myself that I could do it all on my own and that everything was fine.

I remember laying in bed one night and crying so hard that I could barely breathe and I had to flip the pillow over before going to sleep because the fabric was soaked on the other side. The next day I talked to my mom on the phone and she asked, “So, how are you doing, really?”

I replied with an enthusiastic, “Good!” followed by a few sarcastic quips and a ramble about exciting times.

I don’t like talking about feelings because they make me squirmy, but the bigger reason is because I don’t think I’m worthy of them. I don’t think I’m allowed to be sad if I make a decision that leads to those feelings. I don’t think I’m allowed to be sad if I’m supposed to be making someone I care about happy. I don’t think I’m allowed to be sad because what makes me think I have the right to wallow and who wants to listen to me wallow anyway?

I know that probably sounds insane, but for people out there who also have trouble finding their worth, maybe you can relate to a similar feeling.

I’m not here for pity or for a hug (Seriously, don’t hug me. I hate hugging. That will only make me more miserable.)

I’m here because I want to pass along a piece of advice that is completely not my own. In therapy, I would express the dissonant emotions I’ve described and my therapist would always stop me and say, “Kierstyn, your emotions are valid.”

And that’s the point. All emotions are valid. That’s it. I don’t have anything to add on to that.

There’s no happy conclusion here today. I just wanted to say that I’m really fucking sad and that’s okay. If you’re sad, that’s okay too, no matter who’s fault it is or how small the issue feels. You’re worthy of unhappiness. (Just don’t stay in that sadness forever).

And I’ll give you a hug if you need one. I’d do that for you.

2 thoughts on “I deserve to be unhappy

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