In life, both internally and externally, I care too fast and too hard. I find an interest or hobbies, and it consumes me. While this can be beneficial in learning new things quickly, the toll it takes is excruciating. Internally I find a part of myself I like, and I hyper-focus on it. I cater to it, whether it be my hair, my makeup, or anything else. I buy products that make me like what I see more and more. Then one day, the allure begins to fade. I begin to see the flaws in my newly found joy, and I shrink away from it.
I see flaws in my obsession or my skill level. I think how others are better at whatever it may be. Styling their hair, doing their makeup, or maybe harnessing that new skill they want to learn. To combat this, I force myself to sit down and work on the tasks I once had so much passion for. In my experience, love begins to come back. I sit down and force myself to crochet, to write, to read, to do my makeup, or even just my hair. If I feel as though I am doing a terrible job, I work past it. For example, when I do my hair some days, I hate how I look, but I force myself to keep it, and most days, at the end of the night, I look back at myself in the mirror and smile. I smile at what I am seeing. I begin to feel pretty—something which comes as often as an eclipse.
Externally the same occurs. I find a person, and I become fixated on them. Usually, the person is in terms more with a relationship. Rarely it is friendship. But I find this person and listen to the words of admiration they may say, and I become fixated. They like me. They find me funny. They care about me. Soon texts begin to shift to a more casual conversation. In my head, the allure fades, and soon I find faults within the other person. I think of all the things I let slide, and my mind becomes overwhelmed. I leave, on to the next obsession. I jump from person to person, hoping the feelings that come along with the chase stay.
Hoping I find someone who always makes me feel beautiful and loved all the time. The one thing I find myself never being able to do for myself. I know this isn’t practical, but some days I cannot help myself. I find my mouth and hands spewing out words faster than my brain can process what is occurring. Once it has all been said and done, I am left there alone to process what has happened. To put together the pieces, I have left. Lastly, I find myself writing out what I want to say to someone. I reread it a million times, ensuring that my mind is on the same page as my mouth. Still, even like that, I let the words slip out and destroy whatever may lay in their path.