It just hurts to love the world, the planet, the animals, plants, even the insects so much that I forget to love myself; it’s like I substitute the happiness and love of others before the happiness for me and the love of myself. I live vicariously through others: I feed off their joy; I’m a people pleaser, and I aim to please the world, but I guess what really hurts is that I love everyone and everything so much that I idealize it and them to the point that expectation of all of it is fantastical and unrealistic, so ultimately I am bitterly let down when the world shatters before me when someone or something doesn’t measure up to this imaginary dreamlike world of perfectness I have created in my head — it is the world I see, I paint it how I want it, but then the canvas is taken away from me, and the sash is thrown open and I see all the bad the good part of me was trying blot out, you know?
Bipolar Opposites 1 Minute
Published by Bipolar Opposites
A Seattlite, Bipolarite-Proletariate with quite the Story View all posts by Bipolar Opposites