To describe me as morbid would be like describing Jesus as “nice”. Basically, it’s an under-statement. On a good day, I am a tight ball of high-strung anxiety rolling through the motions of my to do list.
I started a nasty habit at a very young age of not validating my own feelings by thinking of others who were worse off than me. When my parents blandly exclaimed over a half eaten meal, “Rainey, think of all the starving children in Africa”- I did JUST that. I didn’t want to forget anyone who had suffered worse than me when I was feeling sad. That would be selfish and selfish was a horrible affliction. Therefore, on the bottom of each one of my converse shoes, I began to write words or phrases that would remind me of others who had suffered worse than me. I sat in my room with a sharpie and on the bottom of all my shoes I wrote words such as- RAPE, CANCER, BURN VICTIM, AIDS, and DROWNING. I thought it was a great idea to combat my own worries with the worries of others. I put this trick to use quickly. When my Dad would lose his temper- I’d stare at the bottom of my shoes. When my mom couldn’t come to visit during the winter- I’d just take a quick peak at my shoes and would instantly feel better. If my little brother was beat up again at school that day- it would pale in comparison to the fate of those on the bottom of my pink converse shoes. It got to be such an obsessive tick that on the walk home from the bus stop daily, it looked like I was compulsively looking to see if I stepped in gum or dog shit.
I got into trouble with this habit when I crossed my ankle over my knee during an English exam in the 9th grade and my teacher saw the atrocities written there. When she asked me why I had all of these horrible things written on my shoe’s bottom, I replied honestly with, “Because it makes me feel better.” I am sure she was wondering how the hell thinking of rape and burn victims could give anyone a warm fuzzy. I was immediately sent into the hall for discussion of this issue. I was no longer allowed to write horrors on the bottom of my shoes. Therefore, I began a list of it in my head. Even today when I express a personal complaint and someone innocently proclaims, “Just try to think of all those who have it worse than you!” My reply? You have NO idea how much I have. You really have no idea.
1 comment:
That's actually kind of a good idea. I still have a pair of converse shoes. I should write stuff like that on the bottom of MY shoes. Better than the opposite. I tend to think of all the people who have it BETTER than me and wallow in my self pity. That's really just pathetic. Better to continue to remind yourself that despite everything, you're doing OKAY compared to the malnourished kids with AIDS in Africa.
Buuuut I still think it's okay for you to freak out and feel sorry for yourself every once in a while. :-)
I'm good at pity parties. So is my boyfriend (:D) so if you ever want us to throw one for you, we are SO down. :-)
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