Six Years Later and I Still Feel the Same

I wrote this post a year or two ago, came across it, came across some of the pictures I was talking about and decided to repost it here. 

 

It’s funny how simple images can suddenly make me recall things I had long forgotten. Things I thought I was over. Things I am over. 

I’m over them, right? 

All those bad experiences they made me who I am today, for better or worse. Hadn’t I long accepted that? 

It’s just an image after all, it can’t hurt me. But then why am I feeling this way? Like I can’t breathe. Like the tightness in my chest is going to squeeze my heart until it stops. Like I want to cry and run away and cease to be. Like its freshman year of high school all over again and my world is crashing around me and I’m a walking cliche eating in the bathroom alone being shunned by my ex friends like I’m a pariah. 

How can one little image do that to me? Hadn’t I long ago accepted that what happened was for the better? I met my best friends and went on to do awesome things because of that? Every tear, every lonely moment, every little cut or contemplated suicide made me stronger or whatever it is that I say to make me feel okay about my shittier moments in life. 

Maybe its because I’m sleep deprived and its late. That’s why a picture of her face set me off.

I don’t know.

I wonder if she ever thinks about me. About what happened. I wonder how she remembers it. Mostly I’ll retell it as a joke in passing. “My Mean Girls moment, hahaha, yeah, I totally ate in a bathroom stall once. So funny. ” 

But I guess it’s not funny. Not really. And I guess I’m not over it. Or maybe I’m just damaged goods.