Sometimes, the very idea of waiting for something makes it more exciting. But sometimes, that excitement shrivels as soon as that waiting ends. Then, you are left feeling disappointed and, most importantly, at a dead end. How could something you've anticipated so much leave you so empty? I've struggled with the concept of disappointment, but I think I'm too much of a romantic to not be disappointed.
My mother once told me of a patient who, after getting both his legs amputated, still requests the nurses to scratch the pads of his feet. I think it's all psychological, some game our brains tediously play with our minds. It's rather formulaic and, thus, could be applied here. The feeling of dejection eats away at you, and though the wound of intial rejection has healed, that silver strand of feeling is persistent and awakening.
I am only human; I know that rejection will reach for me. But with its occurance, I start to question my ability to be good enough. Perhaps it is because I am too uptight about everything, but everytime something I'd consider horrendous happens, I feel this wave of anxiety. It hits me full-force and a sea of sadness washes over. It's the darkest, scariest feeling in the world, like all rays of light have been absorbed into this superficial black hole created by myself.
Do you ever feel this way, too?
One of my favorite attributes about myself is my free-flowing emotions. It's such a gift to not be callous towards life. I love meandering through it twists and turns with passion. That way, I at least know I exist and am not some 2-dimensional form, just ink on paper.
So when dejection hits, I cry. Sometimes I scarcely well up, and sometimes I cry like a Italian. After the storm passes, this tremendous feeling of relief sweeps me away to bigger and better lands. And ultimately, I feel exponentially relieved, and ready to face another day.
