The Emo Alien

 

I was raised to think logically and reasonably.  This meant that tears were foolish little things that were usually shed over a lack of Big Girl Panties, and anger was something only the criminally-minded gave any reign to.

But here's the thing: I'm just not logical.  and half the time, I'm not reasonable.  
I'm free-spirited and colorful and emotional and sensitive.  When things happen in life, I react emotionally. 

I've always thought it was something in me that needed to be reigned in, squelched, FIXED if not sooner then STAT.

I miscarried and it changed my life.  I cried so hard my body was sore.  I stayed in bed for week and read Jane Austen novels and ate a package of Oreos.
A few years later, a friend of my mine miscarried and... shrugged it off.  Oh, well.  That's that.  Wasn't meant to be.

I felt immediately weak, stupid, and less than.

In fact, I still do.  When I think back to her reaction and my reaction to her reaction, I STILL feel weak, stupid, and less than.  It's something I'm still working through, something I'm still trying to understand in myself.

I'm still trying to accept that it's totally reasonable for me to be an emotional being.

Lately, my mind has been overtaken.  hostily. by an Emo Alien.

My thoughts are negative, sad, and awful. 
And The Emo Alien whispers to me, 'this IS you.  I AM YOU.  You're just LIKE THIS: weak, incapable, negative, sad, stupid, weak, weak, weak!'

I hate The Emo Alien.

This is my friendly reminder to myself -a courtesy call, if you will: The Emo Alien is NOT me, that it's perfectly natural for a free spirit like myself to be more emotional than someone who isn't as free-spirited.  It doesn't make either of us wrong or less than... it simply makes us US, and variety is not only a beautiful quality in mankind, it's VITAL.

I am vital.
The Emo Alien is most definitely not.