The Masks We Wear

When my mother yelled at me she didn't yell. She screamed. She screamed in such a high pitch that her voice would crack while she repeated the same thing over and over again in her rage. “YOU’RE SO STUPID. WHY CAN’T YOU DO ANYTHING RIGHT?”

I say that I’m an intelligent individual; but I don't always believe it. Some days my false confidence even has me convinced, I’m brilliant. But behind the arrogance and self-flattery I'm fighting for confidence in myself and my abilities. My husband wonders why I'm fighting the whole world, why I'm so angry, so defensive, when the answer is so simple. I don't believe I’m good enough for anyone or anything. I will always fall short. Mistakes, which are part of human nature, are fatal to my ideas and my passions. Deep down inside I never truly believe I can succeed. Every success, every missed a curb while I’m driving, every right thing I do feels like a fluke, like its luck. It wasn’t deliberate. It takes so little to tear me down that my husband was able to do it in a matter of two days this time. The third day, I stopped fighting. I’ve given up.

I use to give myself all these pep talks, but they had no staying power. That little four year old girl doesn’t believe a word of it. She knows I only lie to her. I tell her it’s not her. I tell her, it’s not your fault. All those words are empty and hollow today. They are as worthless as I feel.

When I hit adolescence I learned the word for depression and I wrote poetry. The school would have put me in preventative therapy if they'd read it. Most of it sounded like suicide notes. All of it said they'd be happier if I were gone. When I reached high school I learned how to fake being confident. My motto was “fake it till it’s true.” I didn't realize I was just covering up.

I still cover it up. This is why I cry. This is why I’m afraid to fail people, why I value their opinions above my own. This is why I crumble under criticism. I stand on phantom legs wearing a mask that is easily shattered leaving a rabid animal backed into a corner.

I don't know how to fix this. But I know it’s there. And all I can do is just keep fooling them with my smiles and my cheer. Letting them all rest peacefully knowing I’m alright when I’m really not. I thought I could be fixed. But today, on this third day, I think I was wrong.