Day 106: Terrified

Hello my wonderfully wild people. Welcome to another day in the life of this crazy dame.

I’ve actually got some big news. I was sent a link today for a woman who runs her own publishing company and she is looking for new writers, so I contacted her.

Tomorrow I will be sitting in front of a computer writing a synopsis of one of my novels and sending it to her along with 3 chapters.

I’m petrified. Things may get a little emotional here, so if you’re an empath or just a cry baby like I am you may want to grab some tissues JIC.

I have an overwhelming fear of rejection to the point that it’s crippling. I mentioned a few blogs back during my scathing book review that I was raised by a man who was not my father, what I don’t think I told you is that I’ve never met my real father.

When I was about 10 years old a family member told me that the man I called daddy was in fact not my father. Jesus, just writing that makes me angry because who the hell tells a kid something like that? Also, now that I’m thinking about it again I was so not 10, I’m almost certain my brother was either not born or still just a baby which means I was only 6-7. What the hell? Fuck. Putting that fucking ridiculous sad fact aside, my entire world crashed down around me. I remember not believing it, I waited until I could talk to my father before I said anything about it to anyone else. Once he confirmed what I had been told, my entire life changed, because no matter how much my mother loved me and the man who I called father cared for me someone had rejected me.

Rejection is a difficult thing to grasp as a child and up until that point I had never felt left out of anything, but right then I became an outsider within my family. I’ve never told anyone else this, but even though I know they love me I’ve always felt like I didn’t really belong with them. Both of my siblings are blonde and beautiful, I’m a fat brunette with a winning personality. Rejection has been gnawing at me since that fateful day and with time it’s only intensified.

It’s insane, I tell myself all the time that my birth father didn’t reject me personally, just the idea of a child in general, but it has never felt true. Actually, later in my life I found out that he had other children around my age and wouldn’t you know, he was in their lives. Maybe that’s why I’ve never been able to shake the dark cloud, if he could be a part of his other children’s lives why couldn’t he be in mine. What was wrong with me?
My parents got divorced shortly after I found out about my lineage and at the time I didn’t understand what was going on, only that my mother had left my father and taken her children with her. I found out later that my father had actually been cheating on my mother for years, so I don’t blame her, but before I knew that all I did know was my father seemed to move on rather quickly. He had a girlfriend and we seemed to become a bit of a burden, I didn’t understand at all what was going on around me, but when I was in my teens I started to realize that he may be happy without his children.

Rejected again. He had another family, a new wife, new daughter, and I thought he obviously didn’t need or want me anymore.

Since childhood their have been other cases of rejection from the male population. I don’t think any of the boys I’ve ever like returned the feelings. In fact most of them who found out how I felt never spoke to me again. We’ve all been rejected.

I preach moving on and all that jazz, but I’ve never managed to fill the pit left inside me. It gets deeper all the time and no no matter how carefully I tread I still fall back in that pit of despair where the voices of doubt consume me.

Why didn’t they want me?

What’s wrong with me?

Why would anyone want me?

Those thoughts hold me back. It’s like a vice grip on my soul and it’s suffocating.  I’d rather be a wallflower because if I’m not asking to join there’s no one to tell me no. I’d rather be alone because alone no one can hurt me. I’d rather not try because if I don’t try I can’t dissapoint anyone.

It’s a sad life. I don’t want to be scared of living, but I am. Fuck, I work in a place I hate because I’m scared to go after what I really want. I live in a town where nothing good is ever going to happen for me. I stay here because it’s safe. Here tucked away in my apartment I’m safe from the outside world. I don’t have to wonder if I’m good enough, well in theory anyway, I still do wonder every moment of everyday if I’m good enough. I worry about it to the point of making myself sick.

I don’t want to be like this anymore. I want to live my life without constant fear. I want ro get out there and show the world who I am and not be worries about whether or not the world is going to like that person.

Tomorrow I’m going to take a big step toward the future I want for myself. It terrifies me, but I know that if I don’t try I’ll regret it sooner rather than later. I know what I want out of life and tomorrow I’m going to go for it.

So please wish me luck, light a candle, say a little prayer, or do a lucky jig.

Thank you for being here. Thank you for allowing me to share the scared parts of my soul.

Until tomorrow, stay wonderfully wild!
Chels

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