I become too invested in things that end up letting me down, and I think too highly of myself, and when I’m brought down, either fairly or unfairly, I get really mean. But I do the meanness as professionally as possible. And people think I think too highly of myself, but really it’s just because I talk about the things I’m good at endlessly to avoid thinking about the many, many things I am bad at that I find more important. Grammar is less than love, but my abilities in grammar are greater than my abilities in love. Etcetera.
But sometimes I wonder if being a tough bitch is good for anything, since I still end up crying alone in my room. It’s like the tree falling in the woods with no one to hear it; my crying only makes a sound to me. I’m back to caring too much about what people think.
I cannot wait to leave this place.